


All That Glitters

by hearts_0f_kyber (rw_eaden)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Attempted Murder, Author Treats Theology Like It's Build-a-Bear Workshop, Cheating, Dark Comedy, Deal with a Devil, Earn Your Happy Ending, Everyone Wants to Make-out With Rey, Everyone is Queer, F/F, F/M, Farce, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Murder, Implied/Referenced Torture, Infidelity, Internalized Biphobia, Joking About Serious Issues, Kylo Ren is Literally The Devil, M/M, Magic, Manipulation, Mentions of Pregnancy, Minor Poe Dameron/Finn, Minor Poe Dameron/Rey, Multi, Murder, POV Alternating, Polyamory, Seriously There Should Be a Drinking Game For This FIc, Seven Deadly Sins, Temporary Character Death, Truth Spells, gratuitous pop culture references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2019-09-25 01:48:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17112146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rw_eaden/pseuds/hearts_0f_kyber
Summary: Rey is an overworked and under-appreciated customer service representative at the worst job of her life - a call center. The only positive is Finn, her charming and effervescent friend and co-worker, whom she also happens to have a massive crush on. She’s too damn nervous to figure out how to ask him out, of course, so she finds herself massively stuck.Finn has been trying to get Rey’s attention for the past year but everything he does keeps falling flat. He’s tried being her friend and tried being obvious, but she just doesn’t seem interested. He’s at the point of giving up but he just can’t seem to get over this stupid crush.Everything changes when Rey and Finn both meet an enigmatic stranger who claims to have a solution to their problems. Of course, nothing is ever that simple, and they may find themselves caught in a whirlwind of scenarios, choices, reflections, and feelings, each stranger than the last. Will they figure it out and find a way to be happy with each other, or will they wind up losing something far more precious than just an opportunity?Whatever they find, one thing’s for sure: they’re in for far more than they bargained for.





	1. The Devil and Ms. Rey

**Author's Note:**

> Housekeeping, first and foremost. This is a Finnreylo fic. The endgame is Finn/Rey/Ben. If you’re not into that and you only like FinnRey, Reylo, or Finnlo, you might get some mileage out of a few chapters of this fic. Heck you could even read most of it and ignore the ending, but I’m definitely going to build warm and fuzzy feelings all around. So do what you will with that information, just don’t yell at me when the endgame comes to pass. Poe/Rey and Poe/Finn are brief and only occurs in a few chapters.  
> If you’ve ever seen the movie Bedazzled (either version) this is basically that but with my own twists. The universe is “Whose Line Is It Anyway?” and “The Good Place” rules regarding religion (it’s all made up and the points don’t matter) with a blend of Heaven, Hell, and Reincarnation for your afterlife options, God and Mother Nature being the principal deities that oversee but do not interfere with much, and The Devil with shades of Milton but hopefully funnier. We’ll get into that as we go, though. Not giving away the farm just yet ;)
> 
> Some general warnings up front: this fic is about two people who are too dense to realize they want each other so they make deals with the devil to be with the other person. If you have a problem with that for whatever reason (morally, spiritually, w/e) don’t read this fic. Finn and Rey BOTH use magic to get what they want and what they want in this instance is a chance to be with the other person. If you think that’s unethical (if such a thing were to actually exist it totally would be) and can’t stand by that…well don’t read it. It’s a silly excuse to go AU hopping. The intention isn’t to hurt anyone or offend, the intention is just to throw three of my favorite characters into different situations and see what happens.  
> This is a comedy. It’s supposed to be funny. (Whether or not it is remains to be seen, but we’ll see.) Some of the stuff joked about or made light of in this fic might be upsetting (off the top of my head we’ve got torture, suicide, death, murder, plagues, infidelity, sex, and sexuality). This isn’t as dark as my dark comedy tends to run but it should be noted that Kylo is literally The Devil in this fic and I’ve already wobbied the shit out of him so he’s gotta have a more morbid sense of humor. It’s like, the law. This fic is satirical. I take pot-shots at a lot of things and people (even some of which I like) because I enjoy taking the piss out of things.  
> Additionally, there are two chapters that could potentially be… icky for some due to body swapping and gender flipping. I will warn you in the notes of each chapter about what you’re about to encounter because again, my intention isn’t to hurt or offend. I’ve tried to approach these topics in ways that are both compassionate and funny but I suppose we’ll see how it comes out.  
> If you have any questions or concerns, please don’t hesitate to talk to me either in the comments or on pillowfort or dreamwidth. My askbox and messages are always open. 
> 
> Special thanks to leoba and trisscar for reading this mess and helping with tags, warnings, and editing. You're both the best.

Mitaka gulps, holding the tablet close to his chest. Nothing’s changed in the past twenty-four hours, which would usually be a good thing, but as he’s well aware they’re all on a time crunch of sorts. Nearly forty years of waiting and processing souls and doing mountains of paperwork were finally about to mean something for all denizens of the Underworld. If they could pull this off it might just be better for everyone. Mitaka peeks at the screen of the tablet again, double-checking his numbers and taking a deep breath before knocking on his boss’s door. 

“What?” His boss grumbles from the other side of the door. 

“Sir, the numbers for the month are in,” Mitaka says. 

The latch clicks and the door pops open just enough to step inside with an awkward side-step waddle. Mitaka shuts the door behind him and took a deep breath, bracing himself for just about any reaction, remembering the last time he’d delivered bad news. It was the unexpected loss of Ernest Hemingway's soul, which should have been theirs on account of all the spousal abuse, infidelity, and bigotry, but the man upstairs had decided contributing to Western literature in the way he had should allow him a chance to try again. Mitaka had been hurled into the ass viper pit for delivering that news. 

The room is as dark as it always is with the low light of the dwindling fire providing the only light or heat, making all the furniture in the room cast long shadows. That’s the thing about Hell, you see. It’s often imagined as a place of fire and sulfur, full of screaming and pain but it’s so much worse. It’s cold and dark and so often silent with just the hint of footsteps or scraping metal at distances too far to guess. 

“Well?” Mitaka catches the eyes of his superior, shimmering red, like a cat’s eyes in the low light. He’s sitting parallel to his mahogany desk, rolling chair leaned back as far as it can go without tipping over, feet resting on the corner of the dark wood. 

“Sorry, sir,” Mitaka approaches, the tablet still held close. “There has been no change.” 

“No change?” His feet slide off the desk and hit the floor with a thump.

“No, sir. We’re currently at 47,893,070,092 souls. Same as last month. And the month before. Up two from three months ago.” 

“How? How could we be possibly in the same place for three months? Are the humans just not dying? Didn't we up our campaign against measles vaccines?” He slams his hand against the desk, punching holes in the wood with his talon-like nails. 

“Well yes, but measles is usually a childhood disease and we don’t get the children. Also, humans are living longer in some areas so the anti-vaxx moms won't be here for another… forty years or so? Provided they continue to be foolish and don't do more good than harm.” 

The Devil rolls his eyes, ripping his hand away from the wood, splintering the desktop. “Of course. What about politicians? We've had to have a few conservatives croak recently?” 

“No one of note,” Mitaka says. 

“Murderers?” He taps his nails against the desk.

“Oh, plenty, according to the Incoming Departures Department.” 

“Then,” The Devil rolls his wrist, “where are they?” 

“Incoming Departures has decided to schedule them for reincarnation due to extenuating circumstances.” 

“Extenuating circumstances,” The Devil says. The nail clicking ceases.

“You know how they are upstairs. Second chances and all that.”

“Second, maybe. But third? Fourth? Eighteenth? How many chances does one insignificant soul get?” 

“Well. Heaven is big on forgiveness and redemption and that… kind… of…” Mitaka stops his sentence short as he watches his boss straighten up, rising to his feet slow and steady, thick smoke trailing from his nostrils. 

“I'm well aware of what God feels about his favorite little pets,” The Devil hisses. His eyes are glowing now, enough to light up his face and all the long, sharp angles of his nose and cheeks. His skin too, begins to glow, like lava simmering beneath the flesh. Mitaka sometimes forgets, living in the darkness, that his boss is nothing like the other demons who live in the underworld. They have always been the same, human-esque but as cold and dark on the inside as the evil deeds that created them. The Devil, however, is not one of them. He’d been cast out, trapped in a prison of flesh and bone too restrictive for his natural form. He was made of fire and light, colors and sounds, the breath of God and the will of Nature. The Devil is not one of them, and he does not like being reminded of that fact. 

“I-i-if it helps, we’re still three souls ahead on the bet,” Mitaka says, glancing down at his tablet. The Devil glares.

“Oh,” Mitaka gulps, “strike that. They’ve caught up.” If there was any doubt before, he’s certain of it now; he’s going to get reacquainted with the ass vipers.

“They’re cheating.” 

“I- um - I don’t think they can do that. Can they do that?” 

“Why else are they giving the dregs of their little shit race of anxious monkeys so many chances? And now of all times? What are we up to?” 

Mitaka swipes the screen. “As of October 21st, 1978 at 4 o’clock Standard Time, we’ve collected 999,999,998 souls.” 

The Devil huffs. A trail of smoke passed through his lips, encircling his face like a halo. He plops back in his chair and started scraping his nails across the desk, pulling up curls of wood as he does. “They’re definitely cheating. That smug windbag couldn’t bear to see me win so he’s cheating.” His glow dims as he speaks until they’re both left in the scant light of the dying fire. 

“There… there is a way we could still win,” Mitaka says. 

“How? They’ll reach one billion by next Tuesday if it takes that long.” 

“I know you’re not much of a fan, but there is always bartering.” 

“No.” 

“Sir, the last time -” 

“The last time they wrote a song about it!” 

“Yes, but -” 

“Besides it was Hux’s fault. His timing was off. I’ve told him a thousand times his hands aren’t big enough for the bass but does he ever listen to me? No. So now there’s a folksy song about me losing a battle of the bands to a twelve-year-old. No. We’re not doing that again.” 

“I’ve accounted for similar possibilities. I have a plan and two desperate losers who would be more than happy to sell their souls this very minute. It’s impossible to screw up,” Mitaka says. 

“Impossible to screw up sounds suspiciously like certain failure.”

“Look,” Mitaka says, opening the tab he’d made especially for this moment, “all you have to do is keep them alive.” He hands the tablet to his boss, who is eyeing it like the very knowledge is destined to ruin him. 

The Devil looks over the page, eyes skimming at first until something catches his attention and he slows down, leaning further back in his chair and tracing the line of his lips with a single claw. When he finally breaks concentration, he looks Mitaka right in the eye and speaks: “what’s your plan?” 

\-------

Rey wipes the lingering grit from her eyes and yawns at her reflection in the foggy metal elevator. She’d barely managed to get to work on time in between oversleeping and her car acting up and the god-awful line at the coffee shop. She’d only had the time to brush her teeth and pull her hair back before she was out the door. But she’s made it on time. More or less. 

The elevator dings and she hauls herself through the rows of computer cubbies, ignoring the usual chatter, making her way to her own little slice of it; the second computer on the right, third row from the back: hotel booking and Comcast customer service. Fortunately, she’s going to start the day with hotel booking. Unfortunately, she’s going to end it with customer service and all the bullshit that entails. As she sits down, logs in, and adjusts her headset, she takes a hearty swallow of the coffee she’s technically not allowed to have. It’s already a long day. 

\----

“No, ma’am, I can’t do anything about your bill,” Rey says, rolling her eyes. 

“But the man who came to my house said I’d only be paying forty bucks a month. My bill is twice that. I want to know why you thought it was okay to lie to me and hook me into a contract that keeps getting bigger and bigger every month.” 

“According to our records, you signed on for the six months at forty dollars promotion. Your six months ended in June. It’s October now.” 

“He said I’d only be paying forty dollars a month!” 

“And our records show that you were billed for exactly that much for six months. But the promotion is over now. I’m sorry ma’am but I can’t help you bring your bill down unless you want to cut back on some of the channels you’ve purchased.” Rey looks up from the computer, to find Finn walking right past her, around the tables, and towards the break room. She checks the time on the computer. 3:30. Of course, it was 3:30 already. Finn always takes his afternoon break around this time. She usually tries to catch him, but if this woman doesn’t end the call soon she’ll get stuck at her desk. Again. 

“That’s bullshit! I don’t want to give up my channels. What the fuck am I paying you for then?” 

“I’m sorry ma’am but that’s all I can do.” 

The woman huffs on the other line. “I want to speak with your manager. You obviously don’t understand what’s going on here so I want to speak with someone who does.” 

“Okay, ma’am. If you stay on the line I’ll transfer you right now.” Rey mutes her headset. “Good fucking riddance,” she mutters, clicking through the link tree until she had the option to transfer. 

When the red light on her phone goes out she logs off immediately, tossing her headset onto the keyboard and practically running to the break room. She’ll have about thirteen minutes if Finn hasn’t taken his break early or run off to the bathroom. Thankfully, she finds him, staring at the snack machine and frowning. 

Finn had been her first real friend. Sure, she’d had people to talk to in high school, but she never clicked with any of them the way she did with Finn. He was funny and sweet and genuinely interested in her, so it wasn’t really any wonder that she’d fallen for him. Of course, the fact that he’s handsome, with those warm, dark eyes like freshly brewed coffee, and cute nose she has to keep herself from bopping at every opportunity, and the way that his whole face lights up when he laughs doesn’t hurt either. He’s the reason she keeps her crappy job. She can deal with prank calls and irate customers and even the heavy breathers if she gets to see Finn every day and just talk to him a little. Other than Rose, who also works in their building but transferred to the second floor and T-mobile customer support, Rey doesn’t talk to anyone, really. And what she wants with Finn was a lot different from what she has with Rose. Rose is a friend but Finn… well, he’s still a friend, she just hopes that maybe someday he’ll be a little more. 

The problem, of course, is that Rey… isn’t very good about asking for dates. She isn’t shy as much as she’s incredibly awkward around other people and unsure of how to even ask for a date. Sure, there’s always “do you want to go out with me” but she isn’t willing to put herself out there like that without knowing Finn would be interested. As it is he treats her like any of his other friends, and she almost never has the opportunity to get him alone. She’s just… stuck in a rut, hoping someday he’ll figure out that she’s interested by… telepathy or something. 

“Hey, Finn,” she says, a little out of breath. 

“Hey, Rey,” Finn says, not looking up from the machine. “Do you have a quarter I could borrow?” 

“Sure,” she says a little too enthusiastically, “But I left my purse at my desk. I can go get it, though.” 

Finn waves her off. “Nah, don't put yourself out. I’ll just get M&M’s.” 

“You're sure? Cause I can go get it.” 

Finn shakes his head. “Don't worry about it,” he says, punching in the buttons for peanut m&m’s. He rips open the bag, tossing a few into his mouth before offering it to her. “Want some?”

“No thanks. I don't like nuts. Peanuts, I mean. Other kinds of nuts are great.” She flushes, suddenly realizing what had come out of her mouth. “Like edible nuts,” she says, making the innuendo worse.

Finn raises an eyebrow. “Aren't all nuts edible?”

“Well yeah, if you're into that kind of thing.” 

Finn squinted at her, his brow furrowing in a way that would've been adorable if it weren't at her expense. “Right,” he says. 

Rey bites her lip, torn between apologizing and pretending as if he didn't catch the accidental double meaning. 

“So, Poe was talking about heading out to see the game this Thursday. Buffalo Wild Wings has half-priced beer after 8 so I figured it might be fun. If you're interested you should come,” Finn says. 

“Oh. I, uh -” 

“If money is an issue we can like… get one of those party platters and split it with the rest of the table.” 

“I… I dunno. I'm not really a sports person.” 

“Okay, well, if you change your mind let me know. Rose is gonna bring her sister so you wouldn’t be the only girl there, either.” 

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Rey says. 

“Okay,” Finn says with a shrug, “suit yourself then.” He turns around, walking over towards the coffee pot on the other end of the room. “Want some?” 

Rey comes up beside him. “Sure.” 

Finn pours two styrofoam cups of almost undoubtedly burnt coffee and a hefty spoonful of creamer into each. He hands Rey her cup with a smile. On the first sip, she burns her tongue. Rey sets the cup down but misjudges the depth and it tips over, off the ledge and onto the floor, hitting Finn on its way down. 

“Fuck!” Finn shouts, jumping back and dropping his own cup. The coffee has soaked through the thin fabric of his slacks already. 

“Oh shit! Finn, I’m so sorry!” She whirls around, ripping napkins out of the holder on the counter. 

“Jesus fuck!” Finn says, “fuck that’s hot! I need to - I gotta go.” He’s off like a shot, running out of the breakroom and probably to the bathroom to check the damage. 

Awesome. Not only has Rey made a fool of herself, but she’s probably just burned Finn. Hopefully, it won’t be too bad or blister, but she has no idea if it was that hot or not. She’s seen that documentary about the women who got third-degree burns from her coffee, and she really doesn’t want to be the source of that kind of misery. Her stomach churns as she drops to her knees to mop up the spilled coffee. The least she can do is sure no one slips and cracks their head open. 

She doesn’t see Finn when she goes back to her computer. Hopefully, he’s okay and she hadn’t hurt him or embarrassed him too badly. She supposes she’d know if she heard an ambulance pull up, though. 

Rey puts her headset back on, clocking back into the system. She gets a call within seconds. 

“Comcast customer service. My name is Rey.  How can I help you today?” 

“H-hello,” a man’s voice comes through on the other end. 

“Hello. How can I help you today?” 

“W-what are you wearing?” 

Rey shuts her eyes, gathering all her strength to not let out a disgusted sigh. So this is gonna be how the rest of the day is gonna go, huh? 

\--- 

By the time Rey gets off work, thirty minutes after she’s supposed to by the way, she’s ready to strangle someone. After her heavy breather, she’d gotten to sit through a tongue lashing because another technician didn’t show up followed by a thirty-minute round of back and forth because a box wouldn’t turn on (it wasn’t plugged in) and then, because it was her lucky day, another tongue lashing. She hasn’t seen Finn since she spilled her coffee and she’s more than ready to just go home, slip into her pajamas, and call it a day. 

Of course, that isn’t going to happen, though. She gets stuck in traffic for another thirty minutes because of an accident. She can’t tell how far ahead it was or how bad it was, but it doesn’t matter anyway. She’s trapped between two pickup trucks in a beat-up Nissan that doesn’t have air conditioning in the middle of August. “I’ll be home soon,” she mutters to herself, rolling down the windows, “then I’ll stuff my face with chicken strips and frozen margaritas.” 

She waits another ten minutes, crawling forward a foot at most. The car on her left pulls off suddenly, onto a side road she hadn’t noticed before. The car immediately behind doesn’t seem to be paying attention, so Rey seizes the moment, barely making the tight turn onto the side-street, earning herself a few loud horn beats and a middle finger from the driver she cut in front of. It doesn’t matter, though. She is getting the hell off this road and getting home. Driving the surface roads is likely to take a little more time, but at least she’ll be moving forward. As she follows the road, though, it becomes painfully clear that she’d made a wrong turn somewhere. The streets are unfamiliar, and the pavement beneath her tires is poked with holes and dips until it thins into dirt. She’d thought turning left the first time would take her to an intersection with the main road again, but apparently not. 

She’s in open land, now, as the houses around her became few and far between. That isn’t unusual, though. Rio Rancho is a strange city, having popped up too quickly for any real city planning. There were still large stretches of the city that were nothing but yawning desert until you drove long enough to run into a gas station or a housing development. The sky is beginning to darken, though, and she really doesn’t like the idea of being out in the middle of nowhere after dark. The desert is spooky at night. The shapes of scrub brush and rocks in the distance always make her take a second glance. 

The road she’s on taked her to a bridge over an arroyo, and as soon as she rolls onto it the car’s lights dim. “No,” she whispers, “don’t you do this to me now.” 

The car doesn’t listen. It loses speed, rolling to a stop in the middle of the bridge as the lights die. “Oh come the fuck on!” Rey shouts, banging her head to the steering wheel. “Not now! Not today!” She pulls the key out then shoves it back in, trying and failing to turn the car back on. 

She huffs, ripping the keys out and stomping to the trunk where she retrieved her emergency toolbox and flashlight. She stomps back, grumbling and kicking up dust the whole time until she’s reaching back into the car and popping the latch to the hood. She doesn’t dare slam the door, no matter how much she wants to, because with her luck she wouldn’t be able to get back in. 

Holding the flashlight in the crook of her neck, she props the hood up and looks inside. The hoses are fine and the fluids have been changed within the last month. The belts are still in place and she knows she’s put gas in the tank just the day before. She sets the toolbox down and digs through it, searching in vain for the multimeter. She’d lent it to Teedo the week before so he could check the battery on his bike. She must’ve forgotten to take it back. 

Rey slams the hood, tosses the toolbox in the backseat, and fumbles with the crap in her glove box until she finds her insurance card. She dials the number on the back, staring out into the twilight as she waits for an answer. She might have to call into work tomorrow if a jump start is out of the question. She should’ve just stayed in bed. She should’ve taken it as a sign when she overslept that it was a day better spent in bed. 

When Rey finally gets on the line with a representative and has given her name and policy number, she explains the situation. “My battery died. I need a jump or a tow. Not sure which.” 

“Okay, what’s the address of your break down?” The woman on the other end asks. 

“I… don’t actually know. I took a right off Unser before Southern and now I don’t know where I am.” 

“Do you see any street signs anywhere?” 

“No,” Rey groans, “I pulled onto a street off the main road and then I took a left and now I’m stuck in farmland. I’m on a bridge in the middle of nowhere.” 

“That…” the woman trails off, “I can’t send a tow truck unless I know where you are.” 

“Fuck,” Rey swears under her breath. “So you need an address?” 

“That would be ideal. Or at least a cross street. Does your car have a GPS?” 

“No.” 

“Did you pass any gas stations or shopping centers?” 

“I - I dunno. There were a few houses on the way back but it’s just… nothing.” 

There’s typing on the other end of the line and Rey takes a deep breath. Her eyes burn and it’s all she can do to keep from crying. But crying isn’t going to help, it’s only going to make her eyes puffy in the morning. 

“Ma’am?” The woman on the other line asks, “where did you say you were now?” 

“On a bridge. Over an arroyo.” 

“Does the arroyo have a name?” 

“How the hell should I know? It’s a ditch!” Rey takes a deep breath, calming herself. “Sorry. No, I don’t know what its name is.” 

“What about the houses a while back? Could you walk to one of them?” 

“There is no way in hell I’m walking in the dark to a stranger’s house in the middle of nowhere. I’ll sleep in the car instead.” 

“Okay, uh… you said you took a right and then a left?” 

“Yes. A right as I was traveling on Unser, towards Southern, past the Dions. Then I took the first left. I went straight and now I’m nowhere.” 

“... I can send a truck to look for you but it could be anywhere between fifteen minutes and an hour based on the info we have,” the woman says, “would that be alright?” 

Rey very nearly growls. “Fine. That’s fine. Just, come find me.” 

“Do I have your permission to pass your phone number to the driver so he can call you when he’s close?” 

“Yes. That’s fine,” Rey says, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Is there anything else I can help you with tonight?” 

“You don’t happen to have a time machine, do you?” Rey lets out a humorless laugh. 

“Unfortunately, I don’t, sorry.” 

“Well, thanks anyway,” Rey says. She exchanges parting pleasantries with the woman and hangs up the phone, tucking it back into her jeans. At least her phone isn’t about to die, too. 

She tucks her keys into her pocket too and climbs out of the car, stretching her legs. Sitting in the car is only going to make her feel trapped. Stretching will at least make her feel like she’s doing something. 

Darkness creeps down to the horizon, swallowing the last of the gentle blue sky. The stars are already blinking into view but the moon is absent, leaving the world around her without light and comfort. If she were higher up she might be able to look down into the valley and see the lights of Albuquerque, glimmering like thousands of little jewels in the night. She doesn’t see those, though. All she gets to see is the bridge and the road stretches on forever in front of her. 

Rey leans against the cold metal railing, staring down at concrete below her feet. There are clusters of tumbleweeds and plastic bags knotted together at the sides, vague shapes of trash and broken bottles, and something that’s probably a shopping cart on its side thirty feet away. When the rain comes - if it comes, it will carry all of this away, down the long pipes that lead god knows where and bring in more of the garbage people toss into the arroyos. She’s never known where they empty out, though she suspects it might be the river. If that’s the case, it’s no wonder the Rio Grande looks like shit all the time. 

She sighs, lifting herself to stand on the first bar of the railing. Maybe if she gets a little higher, she could see some sign of civilization. 

“No, stop, don’t do it. You have so much to live for,” a dry, almost sarcastic voice calls out from behind her. Rey whips around to find a man leaning up against her car, cigarette dangling from his lips. 

“Besides, a fall from that height would hardly kill you.” His voice is like wood smoke, heavy, dark, and alluring. 

“I wasn’t going to jump,” Rey says, wrapping her arms around herself. 

The man shrugs, taking a drag off his cigarette. The cherry illuminates his face briefly. “Can’t say as I’d blame you if you did. Your life sucks.” 

“Excuse me?” 

He pushes away from the car and Rey gets a better look at him. He’s tall, with skin as pale as death and dark hair that flows in loose waves around his face. He’s wearing a suit and dress shoes with not a speck of dust or dirt on them, as far as Rey can tell. 

“Doesn’t it?” he asks, flicking his cigarette away. 

“I like my life just fine, thank you,” Rey says. 

“You really don’t though.” As the man advances, Rey takes a step back, bumping into the rails of the bridge. “You’re stranded in the middle of nowhere right now because your car is held together with duct tape and spite. You hate your job. Your apartment is a rat trap. You can’t even ask the man of your dreams out on a date. Really, it’s just sad.” He stops, close enough to touch, though he doesn’t lift a hand to do so. Instead, he just stares at her in the darkness. 

Rey freezes, her eyes locked on him. Fear wraps its cold tendrils around her body, making any movement seem impossible. Even breathing seems to take effort. 

“I have pepper spray,” Rey says, inching a hand into her pocket for her keys. She’d never had to use it before, but there was a first time for everything, she supposes. 

“Please,” the man hisses, “I’m not nearly that base.” His breath smells like smoke. 

“Get away from me, or I’ll use it,” Rey says. 

The man rolls his eyes, taking a step back. “I’m not here to hurt you, Rey.” 

“How do you know my name? Who the hell are you?” 

The man smirks. “I’m The Devil.” 

Rey pulls her keys out of her pocket, fumbling until she has her finger on the trigger of the tiny canister of pepper spray. “You stay the fuck away from me.” 

“Go ahead and use it if it’ll make you feel better,” he says, “it’s not going to do anything.” 

Rey presses down on the trigger, covering her eyes with her other hand as she does. The smell of it stings the back of her throat and makes her cough. After a few seconds, she takes off running as fast as she can, down the road and in the direction of the houses she’d seen before. Maybe she can hide there and call the cops… provided this madman isn’t one of the homeowners. 

She chances a glance backward, but she doesn’t see anyone chasing after her. Maybe he’s waiting in her car. As she turns back, she slams into something sturdy. 

“This will go a lot smoother if you don’t run.” Rey looks up, finding herself face to face with the man once again. His hands are around her shoulders, now, steadying her as he pushes her away. 

“How did you-?” Rey pants. 

“I’m The Devil,” the man says, pulling a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket. “It comes with the territory,” he says, wiping the pepper spray off his face. 

“You were just there,” Rey looks back as if expecting him to be standing behind her in the distance. 

“Yes, and now I’m here. We’ve established this.” 

“That’s not possible.” 

“Oh, but it is, sweetheart,” he smiles, a wicked light glimmering in his eyes. “So many things are possible. Things you couldn’t even dream of.” 

“What are you going to do to me?” Rey asks. 

The man scoffs. “It’s not what I can do to you, Rey, it’s what I can do for you. I’m here to help you.” 

“I’m fine, thanks,” Rey says. 

“Are you?” 

“Yes, I definitely am. I don’t need anything done to or for me. Now I’d like to get back to my car and wait for the tow truck that’s on its way. I suggest you go away by the time it shows up.” 

“The tow truck isn’t coming, Rey,” the man says. “There’s a rollover on the freeway. He’ll be stuck in traffic for at least an hour. Then he’s going to get lost coming to find you and in the meantime, your phone will die and he won’t be able to reach you. He’ll call dispatch, give up, and continue with his night.” 

“You can’t know that for sure.” 

“I know everything, Rey. I know your parents abandoned you at a firehouse when you were three. I know that when you were seven you stole the graham crackers out of Kaydel Connix’s lunch box and lied about it when confronted. I know you were the one who started the rumor that your seventh-grade teacher, Mrs. Burns, drank in the classroom and didn’t try to stop your best friend’s mom when she called the cops and investigated. I know you sold oregano to freshman your senior year of high school and told them it was weed. And I know you’re hopelessly in love with Finn Abrams but you won’t do anything about it because you’re terrified he doesn’t want you. So you pine and lust after him all day until you go home to your sad apartment, eat your sad frozen dinners, and go to sleep in your sad little bed. I know everything, Rey.” 

Rey swallows, trying to hold back the sick feeling that crept from her stomach up to her throat. “You’ve been stalking me,” she says. That has to be the answer. That’s the only way… because The Devil isn’t real. 

The man lets out a long sigh, smoke billowing out of his nostrils as he does. He puts his hands up to his temples, rubbing tiny, tight circles into the skin. “No, Rey. I’m The Devil. Lucifer. The Prince of Darkness, in the flesh. It’s literally my job to know everything about you.” 

“The Devil’s not real,” Rey blurts. 

The man actually laughs at that, and the noise seems to startle them both. “I look real, don’t I? Did you think your Sunday school teachers just made me up so you’d behave? Sweetheart, I’m very real and I’m very much in the mood to be helpful, so I’d advise you take me up on my offer before I lose my patience.” 

“Prove it,” Rey says. “Prove you’re who you say you are.” 

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” He says, cracking his knuckles. “What do you want? Anything you want, just name it and I’ll give it to you.” 

Rey bites her lip. Her stomach rumbles. “I want a bacon cheeseburger. No! I want the best bacon cheeseburger in the US. And I want it like right now.” 

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he says, rubbing his hands together. 

In one sickening instant, the world tilts on its axis and Rey’s insides lurch forward as her body lurches back. She gasps as her vision re-focuses, and she finds herself sitting in a quiet dining room, next to a large glass window. People rush past outside, and traffic starts and stops intermittently. The room smells like cracked black pepper and beef. The sound of pleasant chatter and conversation reach her ears. The chandelier above lights the rough looking wood behind her in a clean, white glow. In front of her, the man sits, wearing a satisfied smirk on his plush lips. Rey takes a moment to take him in, now that she can actually see him. He doesn’t look much older than her and nothing like what she’d thought the devil should. His eyes are dark and his skin is still pale, but she can see the beauty marks scattered across his face, the height of his cheekbones, and the sharp angles of his nose and jaw. He’s not frightening at all. In fact, he’s sort of handsome. 

His eyes lock on hers and he nods down at the plate in front of her. “Aren’t you going to eat?” 

Rey looks down to find a burger in front of her, steam rising off the bun. A small pile of steak fries sits next to it. “How -“ no, that’s a dumb question. He’s already told her the answer. She gulps. “Where are we?” 

“Brooklyn,” The Devil says, “Peter Luger Steakhouse. Home of the best bacon cheeseburger in the US.” 

“This is insane,” Rey says, looking down at the burger. “I’m hallucinating.” 

The Devil swipes a fry off her plate and pops it in his mouth. “You have delicious hallucinations then.” 

Rey can’t do anything but sit there with her mouth agape. The stress must’ve finally gotten to her. She didn’t think she’d had a particularly stressful life, really. Boring, sure, but not the kind that might cause a psychotic break. “I’ve lost my mind,” she mutters. 

“When in Rome,” The Devil says, reaching for another fry. Instinctively, Rey slaps his hand away. “Well! You’re not eating them.” 

“Doesn’t matter. Get your own.” 

He rolls his eyes and suddenly there’s a much larger pile of fries on his plate. He winks at her as he stuffs two into his mouth. 

Rey shakes her head. Well, there’s no harm in it, right? She picks the burger up and takes a big bite, unable to stop the groan she makes. “Ohmygod,” she says, mouth full of burger. 

The Devil flinches. “Do you have to use that kind of language at the table? I’m eating.” 

“Oh. Sorry,” Rey says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. The Devil sighs again, his lips pulled in a tight line. With the flourish of his wrist, a napkin appears between two fingers and he offers it to Rey. She takes it, using that instead of her hand. 

He sits, watching as she eats. She’s past the point of feeling squeamish about other people watching while she eats but there’s something in his posture that makes her nervous. He’s too rigid like he’s focusing his energy on holding something back. Perhaps it’s the magic. No one has come up to them, not even a single waitress, so maybe this is all an illusion. 

“Is this real?” Rey asks. 

“You tell me,” he says. 

“I can’t, that’s why I asked.” 

“Yes, Rey. It’s real. We’re really in Brooklyn and you’re eating a real burger.” 

“Then why hasn’t anyone come to bug us yet?” 

“You asked for a burger, not customer service.” 

“Right… I guess that makes sense.” Rey licks the grease off her fingers. It’s a damn good burger. “So what’s the catch? What do I owe you for the burger.” 

“Oh, you don’t own me anything. The restaurant on the other hand…” 

“Seriously?” 

“I left my wallet in Hell,” he says. 

“Well, I left my purse in the car.” 

“Oh well, not the first time I’ve dined and dashed,” he says, pulling a silver tin from his pocket. He smacks it once pulling a cigarette out before lighting it with the side lighter. 

“You can’t do that here!” Rey hisses.

“I can do whatever I want,” he says, blowing smoke in her direction. 

Rey coughs, batting it away. “You’re a dick.” 

“No shit.” 

“So why do you want to help me?” Rey asks, finally. 

The Devil smiles, flicking ash on the floor. “You have something I need, Rey.” 

“My soul,” Rey says. She’s definitely seen enough TV to know how this goes.

“Smart girl.” 

“So what am I supposed to get out of it, Satan?” 

“First, don’t call me Satan. Anything but Satan. Second, whatever you want. I’ll give you one wish.” 

“No way. I’m not giving you my soul for a wish.” 

“How about three then?” 

“Fifty.” 

“Six.” 

“Twenty-five.” 

“Six.” 

“Ten?” 

“Six.” 

Rey bites her lip, considering. “Seven.” She could do a lot with seven wishes if he wasn’t going to budge. And that was assuming she wasn’t losing her mind. She could be losing her mind. Maybe she was for even considering the possibility of making a deal with The Devil himself. An hour ago she was an atheist, now she’s looking Satan in the face and actually thinking about selling her soul. 

“I can work with seven,” The Devil says. 

“So I can get seven of whatever I want? No holds barred?” 

“No wishing for more wishes, wishing to break the deal, or immortality.” 

“Dammit.” 

The Devil laughs. “Oh, I definitely like you,” he says. He pulls a roll of parchment from his jacket, unfurling it on the table. 

_ Agreement for the Exchange of the Soul of Rey Johnson for Seven Wishes _ it says at the top in flourishing red script. “There’s not any way I can get a lawyer to look this over before I sign, is there?” 

“You can try, but they all work for me,” he says. 

Rey reaches to take it but draws back in an instant. He raises an eyebrow at her. “I’m not risking a paper cut. I’ve seen movies,” she says. 

He rolls his eyes. “You humans and your imaginations.” 

She looks over the contract as best she’s able. Thankfully, most of it’s in plain English, unlike her rental agreement. “This says I have to make all seven in order to forfeit my soul,” she says. 

“Yup,” he says. 

“So if I don’t…” 

“You don’t owe me anything,” his smile is sharp and Rey doesn’t trust it for a minute. He’s going to try to make her make all seven wishes, she knows it. But if there’s one thing she is, it’s crafty. She’s wiggled her way out of all kinds of situations, and she’s just been given a loophole. She’ll make it out. 

“This also says I owe my soul to the reigning monarch of Hell?” 

“That’d be me.” 

“Then why doesn’t it say your name.” 

“It’s implied.” 

“No, I don’t like that,” Rey says. “If I’m selling my soul to you I want to sell my soul to you. Not Hell in general.” Rey is going to stick to this point, too. If there was one thing she knew about contracts, other than they had to be read as thoroughly as possible, was that they should be specific. She’d found her loophole, she didn’t want him to have one of his own. 

“What does it matter?” He asks, “you think I’m going somewhere? I’ve been in this game a lot longer than human consciousness. Not like I’m gettin’ out of it anytime soon.” 

“No. I’m not signing this until it says I’m signing it to you, Satan.” 

The Devil’s skin glows and his eyes flicker red. For just a moment, Rey is certain she’s fucked up big time and that she’s not about to get a choice. But he breathes slowly through his nose and the light fades. “If you want to sell your soul to me, personally, it would require my name, not a title. But I’m not giving you my name so you’ll have to make due.” 

“Satan’s a title?” 

“Yes. Satan, Lucifer, Mephistopheles, they’re all titles. Various positions of power in heaven and hell. So either accept the catch-all or don’t. Continue to live your sad little life and waste the opportunity I’m giving you.” 

“What if you had a nickname? Something that was just for you?” Rey asks. 

The Devil squints at her, frowning. 

“If we called you, say, Kylo Ren -” 

“Kylo Ren? You mean the name of your baby doll when you were five?” 

“It’s just an example. It doesn’t have to be that.” Rey’s face flushes. “It would say that I, Rey Johnson, surrender my immortal soul to Kylo Ren, comma, the reigning monarch of Hell, yadda yadda yada.” 

The Devil sits back in his seat, running a finger across his bottom lip. “Alright then,” he says. 

“Okay! So about the nickname -” 

“Kylo Ren. We’ve settled it,” he says. 

“That was an example.” 

“It’s already on the contract. I’m not changing it again,” he says. 

Sure enough, the contract said that Rey would surrender her soul to Kylo Ren, the reigning monarch of Hell. She sighs. Well. It was better than nothing. At least this way it was up to him and him alone. 

“So how does this work?” she asks, taking a deep breath. 

“You sign,” he said, materializing a red pen from nowhere. She takes it, clicking the end. 

“Then what?” 

“You make your wish, I say the magic words, and we enjoy the ride.” 

Rey reads over the contract one more time. The only way out is to not make all seven wishes. She can do that. She can find a way to do that. She takes a deep breath and signs her name to the bottom. 

She looks up at him, parchment and pen suddenly out of her hands and back in his. His eyes are glowing red again and his voice is much deeper as he speaks. “Tell me, Rey, what you wish for.” 

Rey sits up straight, determined to make this her only wish. “I wish to be able to tell Finn exactly how I feel about him.” 

“Carrie Fisher,” Kylo says, snapping his fingers. 

Rey doesn’t have time to ask what the hell she has to do with anything before the world blacks out.


	2. The Truth Can't Set You Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey wakes up after a strange dream with an interesting problem. 
> 
> OR: A foolproof way to ensure you never get a second date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: If you get second-hand embarrassment this probably isn't gonna be too pleasant.

Rey’s alarm clock blares, pulling her from a deep sleep. Her head throbs and her mouth is dry, and she has to think back to guess if she’d been drinking the night before. She doesn’t remember actually drinking, just that it was a shit day. Her car broke down and she… well, she thought she met The Devil. But that’s… yeah, no, she was definitely drunk. She must’ve come home and gotten plastered to forget about the shitty day. It’s not exactly one of her proudest skills, but it was something she’d done a few times in her life. 

Rey shuts her alarm off and crawls out of bed, stumbling her way to the bathroom. Aspirin, then showers, then worry about how much of a mess she has to clean in the kitchen. She is pleasantly surprised to find that her kitchen is fine, however, save for a single lowball glass sitting on the counter. There’s a ring of leftover whiskey in the bottom, which is unusual because she almost never drinks whiskey. She doesn’t bother worrying about it, though. She’s got to be at work in less than an hour and if she leaves now she’ll be able to get a decent bagel before the line gets too long. 

\---

“There are three Choice Hotels in the area with rooms available on that date. Did you have a preference, sir?” Rey’s had a pretty decent morning so far. There was no line at the bagel place so they didn’t skimp on the lox or the chives and she got to work in plenty of time to drink her coffee before she had to start the day. So far, so good. 

“Whatever’s cheapest,” the man on the other end says, “the missus wants something close to the ocean if that helps.” 

“The closest and cheapest hotel is a Comfort Suites in Santa Monica about five miles from the pier. I can get you a room there for $120 a night.”  

“Is five miles too far to see the ocean? My wife wants an ocean view.” 

“I honestly don’t know. I’ve never been. And they aren’t advertising for one so I’d say not.” 

“Is there one with an ocean view?” 

“Uh… unfortunately, that’s as close as I can get you to the beach itself.” 

“Aren’t there hotels right on the beach? Why can’t we get closer?” 

“Because those hotels aren’t Choice Hotels.” 

“Can’t you book me one of those?” 

“No, sir, you called the Choice Hotel booking line. I can only book you rooms for hotels under the Choice company.” Rey rolls her eyes. If she had a nickel for every time she was asked this stupid question she could pay her rent and have some left over. 

“Why do you call yourselves choice then if I can’t choose which hotel to stay in?”

“You can, you just need to pick a Choice Hotel.” 

“Why aren’t the ones on the beach choice hotels? What makes a hotel ‘choice’?”

“Cheap ass rates and carpets that haven’t been changed since the eighties,” Rey says, dryly. 

The man on the other line laughs and Rey immediately covers her mouth with her hand, as if it could somehow retract the words she just said. “I am so sorry,” Rey says, mostly to her boss who’s probably reviewing the phone call, knowing her luck. 

“Are the carpets really that bad?”  The man asks. 

“Most likely, “ Rey says, “and I wouldn’t trust the mattresses either.” Rey mutes her headset, gaping at herself. What the fuck? She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Sure, she thought it, but she thought she had a better grasp on her brain-to-mouth filter than this. She’s so getting written up. 

“Should… should you be telling me this?” The man seems as flabbergasted as she is. 

Rey takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before she unmutes the headset again. “I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to say things like that,” Rey says, “I have a script. I’m supposed to tell you it’s superior customer service or some other lie.” 

“Are...are you okay?” 

“I’m definitely getting fired,” Rey says. 

“Should I call back?” 

“Hell no, call someone else and get your wife an ocean view. Spend more on a hotel room, you’ll get cleaner sheets,” Rey says. Jesus Christ, what the hell is going on with her? 

“O-okay. Bye, I guess.” 

The line goes dead and Rey logs off. She needs to get a handle on herself before this gets worse. But what the hell is it in the first place? She’s never been brutally honest. In fact, she’s been quite the opposite for most of her life. Maybe she’s getting sick or something. 

Rey stands and makes her way to the breakroom, shaking her hands out as she does. She takes a few deep breaths, hoping that this was just a fluke and she’ll be alright once her fifteen minutes are up. She pours herself a cup of decaf and leans against the counter, blowing on the coffee just enough to make it ripple in the cup. 

“Rey! You alright?” Rey looks up to find Finn walking into the breakroom. “I saw you bolt out there and I got worried.” 

“No,” Rey says, “I’m freaking out a little.” 

“What’s going on? Another creep?” Finn walks a little faster, standing close enough that she can smell the warm spice of his cologne. 

“No,” Rey says, “it was me. I just told a customer to call a different hotel service.” 

“Shit, Rey. What happened?” 

“He asked what made Choice Hotels special and I just… I don’t know what happened. I told him what I really thought.” 

“Shit. That’s bad.” Finn says, putting the back of his hand on her forehead. “You don’t have a fever, though. Don’t know if that’s good or bad.” He flashes a half-smile. 

“You have such a pretty smile,” Rey says before she can help it. She barely resists slapping her hand over her mouth when Finn chuckles. 

“I think you’re sick, peanut,” he says. 

“No, I’m not,” Rey says, “even if I were it doesn’t change the fact that you have a nice smile. Or nice eyes. Or a great ass.” 

Finn’s eyes go a little wide as they dart over her face. “Rey..?” 

“I’m sorry that was not workplace appropriate,” Rey says, slapping her forehead. Good god, this is awful. “What I meant to say was that I have a giant crush on you.” 

Finn is silent for several, painfully long seconds. Rey prays for the ground to open up beneath her, or to be abducted by aliens, or to spontaneously combust. Anything but sit here and listen to him reject her or freak out or run off to HR. 

“You have a crush on me?” 

“Yes. Pretty much since I started working here.” She bites her lip as if that’s going to help.

“But you never said anything.” 

“I fear rejection and have abandonment issues.” 

“Oh. Well yeah, I guess that’d do it,” Finn says, fiddling with the ends of his jacket. 

“Do you wanna go out tonight?” Rey asks, “I’m probably going to get fired today and I’d rather ask you before we don’t see each other for a while and I lose my nerve.” 

“Tonight, tonight? Uh… yeah. Yeah! Yeah, actually, I’d love to go out with you,” Finn says. He stands up a bit straighter, his eyes lighting up like they do when he’s figured something out. 

“Really?” 

“Yes!” Finn coughs, clearing his throat, “I mean, we can go out. Just see where it goes, you know.” 

“Okay, then I’ll meet you at O’Hare’s at seven?” 

“Sure, yeah, that definitely works for me.” 

Rey smiles and though she really wants to kiss him, she’s at least able to refrain from doing it. 

\----

O’Hare’s Grille & Pub is one of the more casual grill places in the city and thankfully on the more cost-effective side. It’s clean, well lit, and absent of all the usual cheesy trappings of bars that pass themselves off as pubs in the States. 

Rey arrives first and is seated at a table cut off from the bar by a short dividing wall and a scraggly little fern that probably needs more sun. She’d taken an Uber, partly in hopes that Finn would drive and he’d offer to drive her home, and partly because she didn’t trust her car completely. She’s still a little hazy on the details of actually getting home after finding herself in the middle of BFE, she doesn't even remember all that much after calling the tow truck, and she’s really not interested in having a repeat of that incident. 

When Finn shows up he’s dressed up more than usual. He usually looks nice at work, but he’s mostly a jeans and t-shirts kind of guy. He’s wearing a button up and khakis this time, and Rey’s not sure if she likes it. He’s too stiff like this, and he’s definitely nervous, scanning the dining room as the hostess takes him to Rey. 

“Hey, Rey,” the words come out in a hasty breath. He smiles, though, nice and easy, the way he always does. 

“You look like you’re about to shit a brick,” Rey says. “Are you feeling okay? Is it the shirt? It looks like it’s pinching.” 

Finn freezes right in the middle of taking his menu from the hostess. “I- uh- well, you know,” he stammers. 

The hostess shoots Rey a tight-lipped grimace as she hands the menu over. “Your server will be right out,” she says. Rey tries to appear as apologetic as she can to both of them, but the hostess is gone without another word. 

“I’m sorry,” Rey says, “I shouldn’t’ve said that. But you look so nervous.” 

“Well, can you really blame me?” he asks, undoing the top button of his shirt. 

“It’s only me,” she says. 

“And I’ve been trying to ask ‘only you’ out for a year,” Finn says. 

“Really? When?” 

“Only every time I ask you to go do things with me,” Finn says. 

“You’ve only ever asked me to go out when it’s in a group. I thought you just wanted to be friends.” 

Finn frowns, skimming the laminated pages. “Didn’t think about how that would look, I guess.” 

“Well, in your defense, I didn’t exactly do anything about it either. So we’re both a bit hopeless, I suppose.” 

Finn snorts. “Better late than never.” 

Rey hums in agreement, surveying the appetizers page. “Did we want to split an app?” O’Hare’s serves calamari, which she’s never had but always wanted to try. 

“Hello, folks. My name is Phillip and I’ll be your server for the evening.” 

Rey freezes; she knows that voice. She jerks up to find a very familiar set of dark eyes focused on her. 

“What can I get you?” he asks. He’s not in a suit, just the standard white polo shirt and slacks that are standard for O’Hare’s, but there’s no mistaking who he is. 

“You!” Rey hisses. 

Kylo cracks a slight smile. “Well, unfortunately, I’m not on the menu. And I’m almost certain your gentleman friend wouldn’t like that too much.” 

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I’m your server.” Kylo frowns at her, edging back half a step. 

“Rey? What’s going on?” Finn asks. 

“That man is The Devil,” Rey says, “he’s here to ruin me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Finn glances between the two of them. “Do you know each other?” 

“Yes. He’s The Devil. And he… Oh!” Rey’s getting louder but she can’t help herself. “That’s what’s wrong! You did this to me!” 

“Did what to you? What did you do to her?” Finn looks Kylo right in the face, who’s looking more and more like a scared kid with every second. 

“I haven’t done anything,” Kylo says. 

“Bullshit. You made it so I can’t lie and now you’re here to make me look like I’m crazy.” 

“I have no idea what she’s talking about,” Kylo says, holding his hands up in defense. 

Finn’s brow furrows as he looks back between Rey and Kylo. “Rey… that doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Of course it doesn’t make any sense. He wants me to look insane so I fuck this up and have to make another wish.” 

“Rey….” 

“Um. I’m just gonna give you two a minute,” Kylo says before scurrying off in the direction of the kitchen. 

“Cockroach,” Rey mutters as she watches him leave. She turns around to find Finn frowning, his back straight against the chair. “Sorry about that,” she says. 

“Rey, what’s going on with you?” 

Rey sighs, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s just trying to make me look bad, is all.” Her face is hot, now that the moment has died and she’s aware of everything that came out of her mouth. Maybe if she’s lucky she can still salvage this. 

“Rey, he asked you for your order.” 

“Yes, he did,” Rey says, biting down on her lip. She can just… not elaborate. She’ll just be as short and direct as she can manage without making herself look worse. It doesn’t matter that it feels like the words are physically trying to crawl their way out of her throat, she can manage. 

“Rey, are you okay?” 

Rey tries to nod but her head shakes back and forth as if her body is at the end of a marionette string. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“You’ll think I’m nuts.” 

“Rey, if something’s wrong I need to know. Whatever just happened - it isn’t normal. Not for you.” 

“No, you’re right, it’s not.” Rey’s hands start to tremble and she has to sit on them to stop them from shaking. 

“Rey if he did something -” 

“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” Rey says, and this time she’s actually glad what comes out of her mouth is the truth. 

A different waitress comes up and introduces herself, but Rey isn’t paying much attention. She’s doing her best to focus on what she needs to say. They place their orders and the waitress whisks their menus away, leaving them to do nothing but wait and talk. 

“So…” Rey says, “I’m not sure how to do this. Usually, first dates are for introductions but we’re past that. So.” She folds her hands in her lap, watching Finn intently. 

“Me neither. I guess, uh, seen any new TV shows recently?” 

“Not really. I mostly watch whatever’s on.” 

Their waitress comes back with their drinks and Rey takes a large swallow of her coke, hoping it will somehow calm the rising tension in her body. She can’t lie, apparently, but she can hold herself back, despite how much it’s causing her actual, physical discomfort. 

Finn’s eyes her up and down, the crease in his brow deepening even further. “What do you do then? For fun I mean?” He rips the paper off his straw and sticks it in his own glass. 

“Masturbate, mostly.” 

Finn spews soda all over the table. 

“Dear God,” Rey grumbles, slapping her forehead. If this goes on any longer she might actually burst into flames. 

Finn coughs, mopping up the spill as best he can with a napkin. “Well. That’s. Uh.” 

Rey starts dabbing up the spewed soda with her own napkin. She wants to tell Finn that she’s sorry, that she’s joking or misspoke or something - anything - to make this better. What she lands on instead is: “most of the time I think about you.” 

Finn stops fussing with the mess on the table and looks up at her. “Rey, what the hell is going on with you?” 

“I know that wasn’t appropriate -” 

“This isn’t you. At all. Are you having some kind of… mental break? Because if that’s what’s going on I’m not gonna judge you, okay? You can tell me and we’ll get you somewhere safe but right now this isn’t good.” 

“I’m not having a mental breakdown,” Rey says.

“No one talks about masturbation on a first date, Rey.” He’s whisper-shouting at her now, and they’re drawing more than a few eyes from the rest of the dining room. 

“Apparently I do.” 

“Are you trying to impress me? Is that what all this bluntness is about?” 

“No, Finn. If I was trying to impress you I would’ve told that I don’t have a gag reflex.” 

“Jesus Christ, there it is again. What’s the matter with you, Rey? Serious. Tell me the truth.” He sits back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. 

Rey huffs, licking her lips. Her stomach rolls. Maybe if she tells him she's feeling sick it will be enough of the truth to get out of this mess. She takes a deep breath. “I made a deal with The Devil to be able to tell you exactly how I felt about you.” 

“The Devil… our waiter?” 

Rey cringes but isn’t able to stop herself. “He wasn’t a waiter last night. He was The Devil. He took me to Brooklyn to prove it.” 

Finn lets out a heavy breath, scrubbing a hand down his face. “So you believe you went to Brooklyn last night with our waiter, who’s actually The Devil, and then he gave you the ability to tell me how you feel… for your soul? That’s what you’re telling me?” 

Rey gnaws her bottom lip. “That’s what I’m telling you,” Rey’s voice is pained, even to her. 

Finn nods, scooting his chair back as he does. He stands, fishing some money out of his wallet. 

“Wait, where are you going?” Rey asks standing, too. 

“We’re going to the hospital, Rey.” 

“Like hell we are!”

“Something’s wrong with you, Rey. I don’t know what but this… you have to realize this isn’t rational behavior. None of it makes any sense.” 

“I’m not going anywhere unless it’s to your house,” Rey says, plopping back down in her seat like a petulant child. 

“Rey, come on.” 

“No! This was supposed to be a nice date. I shaved my legs and everything. I’m not leaving here to get committed.” Several waitresses are hovering around the bar and a few tables are blatantly watching as the trainwreck that is Rey’s life unfolds. 

“You know this isn’t like you. If you really can’t stop this we need to see if there’s anything that can be done.” 

“Oh, so you think I’m lying now? I can’t fucking lie! That’s the whole problem!”

“Which is why we should go to the hospital.” 

Rey huffs, digging her metaphorical heels in. She’s pissed, but not at Finn. No, she’s pissed at Kylo. 

Finn sighs, tossing thirty dollars down on the table. “I can’t make you go with me, Rey, but I think it’d be a good idea if you did.” 

“Well if I’m not going where are you going?” 

“I can’t - I’ll call you when I get home, Rey. Please take care of yourself.” He offers an awkward, two finger wave before turning and walking off. 

“I sold my soul for you!” Rey hollers as Finn walks out of the restaurant and into the night. There are a lot of people staring at her now, though a few of them at least have the decency to pretend they’re not. She scowls at a few folks, and they turn their attention back to their food and company. 

Rey slumps in her seat, staring at the laminate wood tabletop. How did it all go so wrong? Was there a trick to this? There had to be because there always is when it comes to these kinds of things. At least, that’s what stories would have her believe. There has to have been, she just wasn’t able to figure it out in time. Now she looks unhinged in Finn’s eyes. And everyone else in the restaurant. 

“Ma’am, are you alright?” 

Rey looks up, finding Kylo hovering in her space.

“You,” she snarls, “you motherfucker!” Rey’s on her feet fast, but Kylo is just a bit faster. She reels back, intent on leaving a bruise anywhere she can reach, but there are arms around her waist before she has a chance to do anything. Kylo steps out of the way as Rey is lifted up by a rather large man and carried out of the restaurant. The last thing she sees before she’s dumped on the sidewalk is the smug grin on Kylo’s stupid face. 

“The cops will be here in fifteen minutes,” the large man says, sticking his finger in her face, “you get and stay gone unless you want to be arrested.” The glass door doesn’t slam like he probably intended it to as he walks back inside, but the message is clear. Rey fucked this one up. 

She starts walking, just enough to get out of the area before the cops show up if they were actually on there way. She calls for an Uber outside a gas station, waiting only a few minutes before her driver shows up in a slick silver Camero. The window rolls down and a man with dark eyes and a mustache leans out. “You Rey?” 

She glances down at her phone. “Lando?” 

“At your service, ma’am.” He’s old enough to be her father with the gray streaking his hair and the laugh lines around his lips, but his eyes sparkle with the spirit of a man thirty years younger. In fact, if he were younger, he just might be Rey’s type. 

Rey climbs into the backseat, buckling in as she gives him her address. The inside is as spotless as the outside, with leather seats that are probably oiled and polished and not a speck of dirt or dust anywhere to be seen. Rey almost doesn’t want to put her feet down, despite the fact that she hasn’t been anywhere particularly dirty. 

Lando catches her eye in the rearview as they come to a stop light. “Miss, I don’t wanna pry,” he says, “but you look absolutely terrible.” 

“I feel terrible,” she says. 

“Rough day at work?” 

“Bad date.” 

Lando clicks his tongue. “Damn. That’s a shame. I wouldn’t worry about it, though. Pretty girl like you ought’a be able to find a date in no time.” 

Rey sighs. “Well, that’s the thing. I’ve only been stuck on this guy for two years.” 

“Ouch.” 

“And now I’ve ruined it.” 

“You didn’t puke on his shoes or anything, did you?” 

“No, I just - said exactly what was on my mind.” 

“Well. Any man who doesn’t want to hear what’s on a woman’s mind probably isn’t worth the effort.” 

“It’s not like I blame him. I sounded like a loon.” 

“You seem pretty reasonable to me,” Lando says. 

“Sure, but I’m not screaming at you about The Devil.” 

Lando shakes his head, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiles. “The Devil, huh?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Well, that’s not typically first date conversation.” 

“I’m not even religious. I’m an atheist. Or I was. I guess if there’s a devil there’s got to be a God.” 

“That would be the logical conclusion.” 

“Are you religious?” 

“I guess that depends on what you mean by religious. Do I spend Sundays in church? No. Do I know God? Sure.” 

“You’re not one of those New Age spiritual types, are you? Because I had a roommate once who was convinced you could cure syphilis by drinking water with herbs in it and she ruined my favorite coffee machine that way.” 

Lando chuckles. “Nah, I consider myself a little more old age.” 

“Catholic?” 

Lando laughs hard enough that his whole body shakes. “There isn't really a word for what I am.”

“You know that sounds pretty New Age, right?”

“Perhaps.” 

The conversation falls silent as they drive for a while. The traffic stops and starts at frustrating intervals, as it's want to do when the roads curve and wrap around like a drunken snake. City planning is, apparently, not a strong suit of New Mexicans. 

“So what do you believe,” Rey asks. 

“Looking to find religion?” 

“Just making conversation.” 

“I believe that love is the most powerful force in Heaven or Hell. Putting others above ourselves? That's how we do the impossible.” 

“That definitely sounds New Age.” 

“Everyone gets a little right in their lifetimes.” 

“Is that what you think God is? Love?” 

Lando smiles. “Nah. God's an overwhelmed old man just doing his best.” 

Rey snorts. “I’d hate to hear what you think of The Devil then.” 

“He’s an idiot, mostly,” Lando says. “A prideful idiot who’s made a lot of mistakes.” 

“He seemed more like an asshole to me,” Rey says dryly. 

“He’s that, too,” Lando says. 

They pull in to Rey’s apartment complex, and she directs him down the parking lot to her building. Rey digs through her pocket for a few dollars, not willing to tip Lando through the app because she’s never sure if companies will actually allow their drivers to keep the whole thing. They park and she hands Lando a couple of crumpled bills. 

“Well thank you, Miss Rey,” he says. “You take care of yourself tonight.” 

“I plan on drinking about half a bottle of frozen margarita mix,” she says. 

Lando smiles at her as she pushes the door open, setting one foot on the pavement. “And Rey,” he says, almost like an afterthought, “don’t you worry too much about that boy you got your eye on. Or that devil on your shoulder. It’ll be alright.” 

Rey gives him a half-smile before climbing out and shutting the door. “Easy for you to say,” she mutters. She turns away, walking up the cold metal steps to her second-floor apartment. She doesn’t see Lando turn around, but his car is out of sight by the time she makes it to her door. 

The apartment is quiet like it always is this time of night. Rey lives alone and has no pets, so the only thing making noise after she gets home is the TV, which is silent and dark now. She doesn’t really have any intention of watching it either, so she just kicks off her shoes and flicks the light on, trudging to the kitchen and the bottle of boozy pink crap in her fridge. There’s a half bag of defrosted taquitos in there, too, which she grabs. It’s not what she’d wanted for dinner, but it’s food. 

She’s about to pop the taquitos in the microwave when she catches movement out of the corner of her eye. She turns, honestly expecting it to be nothing, but doing a double take when she finds Kylo there, leaning up against her stove, sipping whiskey from a lowball glass. She drops everything in her hands. 

“What are you doing in my house?” she demands. 

“What, I can’t check up on my new best buddy?” he asks. 

“We’re not friends.” 

Kylo examines his glass in the dull light of her kitchen. “It’d be easier for you if you thought of us that way. Because it’s my job as your friend to tell you -- you need better liquor.” 

“It’s not for you!” 

“Sweetheart, you do not deserve to be drinking this crap,” he says, setting the glass down in one of her dirty pans on the stove. “You should indulge yourself a little more.”

Rey’s too flabbergasted to respond. Instead, her lips repeatedly form half-words that don’t quite make it out all the way. 

“So, how was your date?” Kylo asks. 

“You know how my date went! You were there, asshole. You ruined it!” 

Kylo’s shoulders shake as he chuckles. “I did no such thing.” 

“Yes, you did!” 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize  _ what can I get you _ is considered a social faux pas.” 

“You knew damn well I couldn’t lie and you showed up anyway so I’d look delusional! You cheated!” 

Kylo pushes off the stove, and it only takes two quick steps before he’s in her face. “I did no such thing. There were no rules regarding my conduct in all this.” He keeps advancing, and Rey is forced to walk backward until her butt hits the counter. 

“You were supposed to grant my wish. That was it,” Rey says, standing tall. He’s half a head taller than she is, but she can still look him in the eye if she cranes her neck. 

“Which I did, fully in line with what you asked for. But if you thought I wasn’t going to pop in and check on my progress you were gravely mistaken.” 

“You made me look bad,” Rey says, jabbing her finger into his chest. 

Kylo scoffs. “The truth can do that sometimes.” 

“You sabotaged my date!” 

“Boo-hoo. Did you really think you were going to get very far with that one, anyway? If I recall correctly, your sexual comments were what drove Finn off.” 

“They wouldn’t’ve if you hadn’t shown up and made me look unhinged.” 

“Do you really know that? He wasn’t too happy when you told him you fuck yourself thinking about him. What was gonna happen when you told him how much you wanted to ride his dick into the sunset over dessert? Maybe the final straw would’ve been when you told him you wanted to have his babies post-coitus? I did you a favor by showing up when I did.” 

“Oh, that’s you doing me a favor? Humiliating me? You fucking liar. All you wanted was to watch me fail.” 

“Oh, really, me wanting you to fail? Imagine an idea like that. It’s not like I’d get anything out of it, now is it?” 

Rey scowls up at him, wishing that she could breathe fire if only to watch him burn. But she can’t so instead she stomps down on his foot as hard as he can. Kylo, of course, doesn’t even flinch. He only rolls his eyes. 

“I hate you,” Rey says. 

“Good for you,” Kylo says, stepping back and allowing Rey to scoot away from the counter. 

She picks up her margarita mix and the taquitos, before pouring herself a drink and shoving the taquitos in the microwave. The drink is too sweet and too alcoholic, but she doesn’t have a blender and she doesn’t want to walk anywhere near Kylo to get ice. When her taquitos beep she grabs the bag and walks back into the living room, unbothered by the fact that The Devil himself is still in her home with no signs of leaving. She turns the TV on to something, she’s not sure what, and starts eating. Her taquitos are still cold in the middle, but she’s too pissed to care. 

After a few minutes, Kylo makes his way into the living room, sitting down on the couch next to her. 

“So,” he says, “are you going to make your next wish or are you going to try to see this one out?” 

Rey ignores him. 

“I’m sure it couldn’t get much worse than this. You could just go to work tomorrow, see if you still have a job, and tell Finn that it was all a misunderstanding. I’m sure if you told him you saw me again after you went home he’d be alright with it.” 

Rey rolls her eyes and turns up the volume on the TV. It’s some stupid cop show. 

“So you're just going to ignore me now? Is that it?” 

Rey turns to face him and sticks half a taquito in her mouth, making a show of chewing it. 

“That's disgusting,” Kylo huffs. 

Rey sticks her tongue out at him. 

Kylo grimaces, turning his focus on the TV. “You know you're going to have to make a wish sooner or later. I'll just keep making this reality worse and worse for you until you do. It won't be that hard. Getting a job is going to be an ordeal for you, especially now that you can't lie during interviews.” 

Rey finishes her drink, setting the cup down on the floor. Her tongue is coated in the gross, overly sweet liquor, and she has to suppress a shudder. 

“So what,” Rey says, “if I never make another wish you never win.” 

“And you never get to be with Finn. Or have you forgotten about that? Too busy hating me to remember that you're squandering your opportunities?” 

Rey glares at him. Yes, she had briefly forgotten that she made the deal to be with Finn. She'd been too pissed off, too intent on getting back at Kylo. But then again, what did she really expect? She'd made a deal with The Devil, after all; he wasn't going to make this easy for her. She was just going to have to be more specific in the future. 

“Well?” Kylo asks. 

Rey sits up, taking a deep breath as she figures out what she's going to say. “I wish to be in a low stakes environment where I can ask Finn out without being creepy and I want to be able to lie but not forced to constantly lie.” 

Kylo cracks a half-smile. “Is that all?” 

“And I want you to not be able to talk to him at all.” 

“Carrie Fisher,” he says with a snap. 

Rey's really going to have to ask him what the hell’s up with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always reachable at my pillowfort and dreamwidth (linked last chapter) but I'm also on [tumbr](http://rosemoonweaver.tumblr.com/)! (Now that I have my stupid blog back.)


	3. 'Twixt the Cup and the Lip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey finds herself in over her head with a new job, a limited time frame to ask Finn out, and one obnoxious and unwanted travel companion. 
> 
> OR Somehow an even more awkward conversation about sex. Also coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you'll notice I changed the tags and the rating. The rating doesn't increase in this chapter (I know, sorry,) but there's a sex scene next chapter so that should be good, right? I just figured it'd be smart to bump the rating now that I know there's sexual content. The tags have been changed because I have moved some things and changed some AUs and I didn't want to leave false information up. I'll be doing this like I do most of my other AUs now, meaning that tags will be added usually a chapter ahead of the chapter they show up in unless something surprises me. 
> 
> Also, one more note b/c this has been bugging me: I know that Kylo is kinda OOC but there is actually a reason for it. He's not typically the kind of cocky, smirking asshole he is here, but rest assured that I'm aware of it and I have my reasons for doing so.

Steam. There is so much steam in her face that for one awful second, Rey worries she’s been transported straight to Hell. She takes a step back, bumping into someone else as she does. 

“Watch it! Behind!” The person she rammed into snipes. 

As the steam clears from Rey’s vision she realizes that she really wasn’t too far off from her first impression. The air is hot and humid, cluttered with the buzz of machines and clatter of metal and forced pleasant chatter. Rey’s behind the counter in a coffee shop. 

She can only stand there frozen, trying to process the absolute sensory overload. The walls of the shop are covered with dark wood paneling. The lights overhead are single bulbs, dangling and exposed. Patrons crowd around the counter, most of them staring at their phone screens as they wait for coffee. Timers beep and other employees keep rushing past her with coffee and bagels and god knows what else. The whole room smells like coffee strong enough to keep her awake for a month and burnt toast. 

“Rey, where’s that Americano?” Rose asks.

Wait, Rose? What’s she doing here? Last Rey heard she was still working at the call center, on the second floor. 

“Rey? Earth to Rey.” 

Rey is unable to say anything as Rose pushes past her. “Is the machine screwing up?” Rose asks, pulling one of the levers on the device in front of the two of them. It’s more like something out of a retro science fiction movie than a coffee maker, with at least two spouts and three levers, too damn many buttons and all that awful hissing. 

Rey backs up as far as she can, bumping right into the bagel toaster and nearly knocking it off the counter. 

“Watch it,” Poe - really? Poe? The guy who delivers the giant water bottles for the cooler? - says, steadying her with a hand on her arm. “You doin’ okay, Rey?” 

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure? You look a little shell shocked.” 

“I - uh. Just a little… my head’s a bit… I think I have a headache,” she says. 

Poe nods. “I’d let you take your break but it’s only eight thirty. You can take the register if you want. Might be a little quieter over on that end?” 

“Yeah, okay, that’d be… I can do that,” Rey says. Anything to not have to figure out the coffee machines right now. Talking to people is something she knows she can do, at least. 

Poe waves a different girl off the register and Rey takes her place, taking a deep breath before starting what she hopes is the usual spiel. “Good morning! What can I get started for you today - Finn!” She gasps as she sees him looking over the board above her head. He looks mostly the same as he always does, except for the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. 

He gives her a soft smile. “You remembered my name,” he says. 

“Of course I did,” she says, “why wouldn’t I?” 

Finn chuckles. “I guess I do come in here an awful lot. I’ll take my usual. Unless you’ve got something on special.” 

The air leaves Rey’s lungs for a second time as she’s struck with the realization that she has no idea what the hell that even is. “That’s a…” Rey stares at the cash register, hoping it somehow has the answers. Usually, Finn takes his coffee with two sugars, but that’s crappy breakroom coffee. “Uh….” she continues. The touch screen in front of her has way too many choices: house brews, espresso, blended beverages, smoothies, specialty teas, and on and on. Why in god’s name are there so damn many choices and not just a “regular coffee with two sugars” button? 

“Skinny Cinnamon Dolce Latte?” Finn says. 

“Oh! Right,” Rey says. “Sorry, it’s been a long morning.” 

“I hear that.” 

“Yeah…” Where the fuck is the latte button? That’s not blended, is it? Is it espresso? Yeah, that sounds right. She punches the espresso button and scrolls down. Awesome! She was right. 

“Would you like large, grande or mucho grande?” Aren’t two of those the same damn thing? 

“Mucho, please,” Finn says, “I have to get this latest draft to my editor by five or she’ll have my head.” 

“Oh! What are you working on?” Rey asks. A woman in line coughs loudly. Rey almost wants to take longer because it’s not her fault she’s floundering here and she really doesn’t appreciate being rushed, but that’s not going to solve anything. 

“Same thing as last week.” 

“Right,” Rey says. She punches more buttons than she really thinks are needed, but at least the machine guides her through the process. Usually, she hates it when companies treat their employees like utter idiots but this time she’s grateful. “Five sixty-seven.” 

Finn fishes a ten out of his pocket and Rey has to take a moment to count the change. Maths were never her strong suit. At least she remembers to write Finn’s name on a cup and slide it back. 

“Thanks,” Finn looks down at her chest, “Rey. Have a good day.” 

And just like that, he’s out of her line. Rey can’t help but feel a little disappointed that nothing else has come of it, but she supposes that’s just the way it is. Maybe he’ll stay in the shop and buy a bagel or something. 

A very impatient woman comes up to the counter next. “Grande Caramel Frap. Extra caramel on the top and those caramelized little sugar sprinkles. I know you keep them year round.” The woman says before Rey can get a breath out. 

“You got it,” Rey says with as much confidence as she can muster. It’s going to be a long fucking day. 

The rush doesn’t slow down until almost eleven o’clock. The good news is that Rey is pretty sure she knows where the hell everything is on the order system now. That bad news is that her brain feels like she’s hooked it up to a car battery for three hours. It’s just a blessing that she’s a quick learner, honestly, or else she’d be completely screwed. 

Poe, who’s apparently the manager around here, puts her to work in the back of the house for a while washing dishes then sends her back up front to mop. She narrowly escapes being put back on the line before it’s time for her to clock out and go home. She doesn’t say goodbye to anyone, she just leaves. 

Or she plans to, at least. Once she steps outside the freezing air slaps her in the face. So not everyone wearing a scarf in the coffee shop was a hipster, then. It’s way too cold to be August in New Mexico, and Rey’s stuck out in it without a coat. She tucks her hands under her arms to keep her fingers warm and scopes out the street for some point of reference. Red brick buildings line the streets around her, some stretching high into the sky, some laying squat. She looks to her right, then her left, but there’s not a single mountain in sight, and she can’t help but feel exposed because of it. She’s out in the open, nothing but concrete and brick and open sky before her, and it feels wrong. 

She takes a step back on the sidewalk to look up at the coffee shop, hopefully for some orientation.

“Deja Brew,” she snorts, “cute.” 

“I thought so.” Rey nearly jumps out of her skin when Kylo’s voice bellows behind her. “It’s appropriate, don’t you think?” 

Rey turns around to face him. This time he’s in a peacoat. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Go torture the souls of the damned or something.” 

“I would, but flaying doesn’t start ‘til three and you can only pop eyeballs out of their sockets so many times before it gets tedious,” he says. 

Rey rolls her eyes. “Why are you even here? I haven’t lost yet. I’ve barely even started.” 

“Fine. If you don’t want to know where your apartment is then I’ll just go,” he says. Before Rey can respond he vanishes into thin air. 

“Wait, Kylo!” She shouts into the empty air. “I need to know where my apartment is!” She spins around, hoping he’s behind her, but he’s not. “Goddammit, Kylo!” Rey huffs. She’s still standing in front of the coffee shop, looking up and down the sidewalk like that’s going to help anything. 

Anxiety takes over and she starts walking up the street and away from the coffee shop if only to get away from her place of employment and the possible questions she’d face. Last night’s humiliation is still fresh in her mind, and she doesn’t want to face anything like that again. She walks until she gets to the crosswalk before stopping and leaning against yet another red brick building. The cold seeps through her shirt and into her skin and she shudders. She needs to find home fast or she’s going to be stuck in the cold. It’s only one so it could be worse, but if it’s this chilly now it’ll be worse as the sun sets. 

Rey takes a deep breath and thinks. When she clocked out she’d at least thought of checking the lockers in the back room, discovering her key worked in number 17. The purse inside wasn’t one of hers, or at least it wasn’t one she’d ever seen before, but she’d grabbed it nonetheless.  She swings it off her shoulder and starts digging through it. She finds a set of keys with a crumbled paper tag that reads ‘A3’ in sloppy writing. At least she knows her apartment number. Her wallet gives much better information, though, with a whole address right there, at the bottom. 

“Ha!” She smiles to herself. “Didn’t need that asshole after all.” 

There are no car keys on her ring, so it’s either within walking distance or easy to get to by bus. She just needs to stop someone and ask how to get there. 

“Excuse me,” she calls after the man walking past her, “I need to get to Le Moyne street. Can you tell me how to get there?” The man keeps on walking. 

She tries again with a young couple walking their dog and an older woman but the couple mutters something about not having any money before she can finish her sentence and the woman was on the phone. 

“What the hell happened to being a decent civilian?” Rey mutters. 

“Paranoia, selfishness, decaying sense of community in large cities, take your pick.” She turns to find Kylo standing right next to her. She barely resists sneering at him. 

Rey lets out a heavy sigh. “So. You’re here again.” 

“Don’t sound so excited now, Rey.” 

Rey scoffs. “I don’t need your help. You can leave now.” 

“Oh, you don’t? So you know where you’re going and aren’t going to wander around for another twenty minutes?” 

Rey huffs, walking up to the crosswalk and mashing the button. “I’m fine,” she says. 

Kylo is still right next to her. 

She does her best to ignore him, though she can feel the heat coming off his body, even several inches away. It’s like standing next to a bonfire, really. A bonfire that smells like spicy cologne. Does The Devil even wear cologne or is that just how he smells? 

Rey walks across the block, to a bus station where a young man with sandy hair is sitting, listening to music. She taps him on the shoulder. “Excuse me.” 

“No, don’t ask him. He doesn’t know the way,” Kylo says. 

Rey frowns but goes on ignoring him. “I need to get to Le Moyne street. Could you give me directions?” 

“Yeah,” he says, “you just go up that street, “ he points to the one they’d just come from, “and then take a right, then a left, I think,” the young man says. 

“No, that’s not right,” the woman sitting next to him says, “it’s a left then a right.” 

“They’re both wrong,” Kylo says. “If you listen to them you’re just going to get stuck out here longer.” 

“Shut up,” Rey mutters. 

“Excuse me?” The woman at the bus stop pipes up. “I don’t even know you, lady.” 

“No, no, not you,” Rey says, throwing her hands out, “it’s not you. I was talking to-” she turns to look at Kylo, who just smirks at her. Of course they can't see him. They'd’ve acknowledged him if they did. “I’m on the phone,” she pats her ear, hoping her hair is long enough to cover the fact that she’s not wearing a Bluetooth. 

“Why don’t you ask him them?” The woman asks, still a little snappish. 

“He’s an asshole.” 

“Boyfriend?” The woman asks. 

“No!” 

“Ah, husband.” 

“What the - no. Can we get back to the directions, please?” Rey insists, planting her hands on her hips. 

“Yeah, it’s a right and then a left,” the man says. 

“No, it’s a left, then a right,” the woman says. 

“No, because the flower shop is on the left and you gotta walk right towards it.” 

“If you’re coming down the street. You have to walk towards the deli when you walk up it.” 

The man and woman start to bicker amongst themselves, ignoring Rey for the sake of their fighting. Rey rolls her eyes, mutters a thank you, and walks away, up the street, with Kylo close on her heels. 

“You sure are a stubborn one,” Kylo says. His tone is light and irritating and she wishes she could kick him in the shins. 

“Why should I trust you not to get me lost?” she snaps, “I can’t even trust you to grant my wishes correctly.” 

“On the contrary,” Kylo says, sidling up right next to her, “I gave you exactly what you wanted: a low stakes environment where you can confess to Finn. You can lie but aren’t forced. And I haven’t said a thing to him.” 

Rey snorts. “Low stakes? How is throwing me in the deep end in a job I’ve never done before low stakes? Not even as a trainee, just right in there? And I only got to speak to Finn for two minutes.” 

“It’s low stakes in terms of, you know,” he rolls his wrist as he speaks, “social pressure. At least if Ao3 is to be believed.” 

“Ao3? Are you kidding me? The Devil reads fanfiction?” 

Kylo shrugs, “What else am I supposed to do all day?” 

“Uhm, I dunno, Hell things?” Rey’s flabbergasted enough that she lets him steer her down the street, towards a few small shops.

Kylo rolls his eyes. “I have downtime, too. Besides, if there’s one thing you humans have created that’s actually worth a damn it’s what you’ve done with sex. It’s one thing to fuck - animals fuck - but you made it more complicated by adding rules and spreader bars and then you turned it into a spectator sport. Pretty impressive for a race of demented monkeys.” 

“That’s… uh…” Really, Rey can't help the fact that her face is on fire. It’s an embarrassing topic. And listening to The freaking Devil talk about it… wait did that mean these were sins? Were her Sunday school teachers right? Obviously, they’d been right about The Devil. “Is… is that a sin?” 

Kylo snorts. “What part: the potential for exploitation under capitalism, the wanton lust that drives the demand, or the way you all writhe and sweat and scream for each other?” He’s watching Rey out of the corner of his eye. There’s a piercing heat in that gaze that stirs her insides and makes her uncomfortable. The whole conversation makes her uncomfortable, but it’s not helped by the intensity in the way he’s watching her. It twists in her gut and makes her want to squirm away from his sight, but she remains strong and still. 

“Uh.” 

“Or maybe that other thing you don’t really want to ask me. You know, that little matter of who you’re writhing and screaming and begging for. Is it just pure procreative sex that’s free from sin or is it anything a married couple does to each other? Is it a damnable offense to lie beneath a few boyfriends or is it worse to lie on top of just one woman?” 

“Hey!” Rey snaps, “shut up!” 

“Oh, you don’t want to talk about her?” 

“It was college, it was an experimental phase, it doesn’t count.” 

“Oh, yes it does.” 

“I didn’t even like it.” 

Kylo steps in front of her, stopping her just short of running into him. He looms over her, staring down his nose at her. “Of course not. That’s why you still think about it sometimes. What it felt like to dig your nails into the flesh of another woman, how her breasts rose and fell with her heavy breathing, what she tasted like. But you hated it, right, Rey.” 

“You, shut the fuck up!” She shoves past him, marching up the street in a huff. Of course, he’s undeterred, but at least he keeps his mouth shut until Rey’s heart stops beating in her ears and she’s forced to stop at the crosswalk. The cold suddenly doesn’t matter to her anymore as she feels like the temperature of her skin has jumped up about ten degrees. Her stomach churns with unease and embarrassment, but there’s also a little tingle of excitement a little deeper than that. Yes, she enjoyed it. Yes, she still thought about it. Yes, she wondered, sometimes, if it had been wrong or if it was supposed to mean something about who she is as a person. And yes, hearing it described in Kylo’s heavy, hushed voice made the memory a little more appealing. 

“It’s the exploitation, just so you know. That’s as close as it gets to what you understand as sin.” 

Rey scowls, intent to tell him off but when she looks at his face he’s not smirking or taunting her. There’s really no expression on his face. 

“Who you sleep with doesn’t matter,” he says. 

Rey rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, watching him out of the corner of her eye. 

He nods, a little awkwardly before he speaks. “Your building is across the street. Third from the right.” 

And just like that, he’s gone again. Rey only wishes she’d been paying attention while he led her to her apartment. 

\---- 

Rey manages to find little pieces of her life around the apartment, some that seem right and some that seem wrong. She’s artistic in this life, as evidenced by the sketchbooks on her dresser. She also hasn’t drawn anything in a while, if the dust on the sketchbooks is anything to go by. She draws animals and mountains and large rolling hills but no people. The pictures in her living room tell a story of some family; one of her as a child and two older people, maybe grandparents, at a beach, one of her in graduation robes with just the old man, and one of her on her own. There are no parents or grandparents in her phone, however, so she assumes the strangers in the pictures have died. She does have phone numbers of people she’s never heard of, however. She must be popular here. 

Rey also finds a work schedule on her phone, as well as a map app, which was a relief. There’s no telling how this wish is going to go if she can’t actually figure out when and where she’s supposed to meet Finn. 

After finding little bits and pieces of who she was supposed to be on that first night, Rey falls asleep with little trouble. Being thrown into a completely different reality is exhausting. Waking up in this apartment is unsettling, though. Everything is where Rey would expect it to be if shifted just a little. Her bowls are in the right cabinet but to the left of the plates instead of right. Her bathroom is clean and organized, but the toilet is on the wrong wall. The cereal in the pantry is frosted flakes instead of puffed rice. It’s like waking up in a friend’s home; familiar but wrong. It throws her off.

Still, she gets up at the ungodly hour of four in the morning and goes about her morning routine before heading out the door. It’s cold as hell outside, which she supposes is to be expected. She’s apparently stuck in Chicago, in the middle of October, if her weather app is to be trusted. It gets cold in the desert, especially at night, but the wind chill here is inhumane. The walk from her apartment to the Deja Brew is only fifteen minutes, but by the time she walks through the door the tips of her ears are frozen and her cheeks are definitely red. 

She yawns through the early morning setup as the first pots of coffee are brewed and the toasters are plugged in. She starts to make her way to the cash register but gets cut off by Poe. 

“Hey, Rey, do you think you could work the line today? We’re trying to train the new girl on the register.” 

“Uh... “ Rey stutters, “I- I guess so.” 

“Awesome,” Poe says, slapping her on the shoulder, “by the way, you feelin’ better?” 

“I… yeah I think I am. But uh, can I just ask a question?” 

“Sure!” 

“How do I make the drinks?” 

Poe snorts and shakes his head. “That’s what I like about you, Rey. You might not say a lot but you’ve got a great sense of humor.” 

Rey doesn’t have a chance to say anything as he walks past her, straight for the register. “I wasn’t joking,” she mutters to herself. She swallows around the lump forming in her throat and stares at the machines around her. The bagel toaster should be easy enough, and the regular coffee pot is definitely something she knows how to use. But the rest of it? She has to focus on her breathing as she tries to figure out what the hell the three-nozzled contraption in front of her does. 

“You sure you’re okay, Rey?” 

Rey turns around, finding Rose standing behind her with a frown on her face. 

“I-” Rey gulps. She’s in way over her head and there’s not a damn thing she can do about it unless she owns up to that fact. Maybe Rose will take her a little more seriously than Poe will. “I have no idea how to use this,” Rey gestures to the machine. 

“The espresso machine?” 

“Whatever. I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

Rose squints at her. “You’re kidding right?” 

“No. No, I am so not kidding. I don’t know how to use any of this, much less make any of the stupid fancy drinks. I need help.” 

“Did you… hit your head or something?” 

“Maybe?” 

“Do you want to go to the hospital?” 

“What is it with everyone asking me if I want to go to the hospital?” Rey groans, rubbing her eyes. Rose is still standing in front of her, looking increasingly worried and possibly a little scared. “No. I don’t want to go to the hospital. I want to know how to use this machine,” Rey says. 

“You grind the beans into the portafilter, then you stick it in the group head, press the button and boom, espresso,” Rose says. 

Rey gulps. “I don’t know what that means.” 

“Rey -” 

“No, Rose, please. I can get this. Just show me how to do it really fast and I won’t bug you again.” 

“If you’re sure,” Rose says. 

Rose stands in front of the machine and pulls on one of the leavers. It’s not a leaver at all, surprisingly, but a little metal cup on a stick. She then sticks it into the machine next to the espresso machine and presses a button. The new machine whirs to life, making an awful grinding noise. When it stops, Rose pulls the little cup back out. It’s full of coffee grounds now, and she tamps those down with a little ceramic plug looking thing. She locks the cup back into the machine, sticks a coffee cup under it and presses the button with one coffee cup on it. Soon enough, a thin stream of dark coffee dribbles out and into the coffee cup. 

“Remember to empty the grounds into the bash bin after each shot. And I don’t need to show you how to use the steam wand, do I?” Rose asks, handing the little shot of espresso to Rey. 

“Uh…. no?” 

“Good. Now, are you sure you’re okay?” Rose asks. 

“Definitely. Just, one more thing?” 

“What’s that?” 

“How do I make the drinks?” 

Rose sighs, hanging her head. “There’s a binder in the cabinet,” she points to the wood cabinet under all the machines. “I hope you know that if you’re still acting weird at lunch I’ll have to tell Poe,” she says. 

“I promise I won’t be. It was just a… temporary brain fog. I’ve got this under control,” she says, giving Rose what she hopes is a reassuring smile. 

Rey does not have it under control. It’s a cluster fuck from the minute the first customer walks through the door. She’s too slow on the espresso machine, she doesn’t know where the flavored syrups are, she can’t fucking find the ice until someone points it out to her and she way overdoes it on the whipped cream twice. The worst part though is when she tries to clean the blender. She’d watched Rose stick it upside down on the little water sprayer so she figured it wouldn’t be that hard to do. If she could make a macchiato she could clean a blender right? No. Absolutely not. She presses the nozzle just a little too hard and at an angle and winds up spraying water all over herself. And of course she got the blender blade caught on the nozzle so just pulling it off wasn’t possible. She wound up soaked right through her bra. 

And, to top it all off, by the time she actually has time to take a breath and look at the clock it’s eleven thirty and there was no sign of Finn anywhere.  

This day can’t be over fast enough. 

\--- 

“Should I be expecting a wedding announcement anytime soon?” Kylo is standing in the alleyway between the coffee shop and the building next to it. Rey rolls her eyes and keeps walking. 

“I wouldn’t invite you to my wedding anyway,” Rey says, marching past him. 

“That’s just hurtful,” Kylo says, “you’re supposed to invite the matchmaker to the wedding. It’s good manners.” 

Rey laughs. “Matchmaker my ass. The only thing you’ve done so far is make my life harder.” 

“Right. I forgot you were doing so well on your own.” 

“Shut up,” Rey mutters. 

Kylo chuckles. It’s a deep, rumbling sound, like the idle engine hum of a sports car. It’s much more appealing than it has any right to be. 

“I still don’t know how I’m supposed to get Finn’s attention from behind the counter,” Rey says. She needs to focus on the task at hand, which is getting with Finn, whatever it takes. 

“You act like you’ve never flirted with anyone in your life,” Kylo says with a sigh. “What do you usually do to get anyone’s attention?” 

“I don’t know. I just start talking to people. Guys are always the ones to take initiative.” 

“It’s the twenty-first century, sweetheart, the sexual revolution has come and gone. If you want to get in that man’s pants you can let him know.” 

“Why is it always sex with you? I want more than just to get into his pants.” 

“Like love and commitment and companionship and other lies fairytales tell you about?” he sneers as he speaks. “You would.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing,” Kylo says. 

The two of them stop at a crosswalk again, silent again. Irritation is painted into the lines of Kylo’s face and Rey can practically feel it pulsing off of him. Rey hadn’t thought she’d said or did anything to piss him off, but obviously, she has. Usually, she’d feel a little bad about that, but this is Kylo and he’s pissed her off every time he shows up. If she did something to make him mad it served him right. 

“If you want my advice -” Kylo starts. 

“Do I want your advice?”

Kylo huffs, “Be seductive. Wear your hair down, unbutton your blouse a bit, and smile. But give him a real smile, none of that fake, awkward smiling you do for the other customers. You look like you’ve gotten a bad botox injection. It’s frightening.” 

“It’s not that bad!” 

“It is. Oh! And touch him,” Kylo says. “Like this,” he grabs her by the forearm pulling her close enough that she can feel the heat of his breath on her skin. He squeezes, whispering “Wow, Finn, you have such big muscles.” 

Rey wrenches her arm out of his grip before slapping him as hard as she can. As always, he’s completely unfazed. “Don’t touch me,” she hisses. She can still feel the heat and pressure of his grip on her arm. It’s not painful but it does send shivers down her spine. She takes two more steps back if only to get out of his personal space. 

Kylo rolls his eyes. “Are you always going to be this dramatic?” 

“Are you always going to be a pain in my ass?” 

Kylo just smiles in that obnoxious, shit-eating way of his. 

\----

It’s been three weeks since Rey woke up in this boring, milquetoast life and she’s made zero progress. Figuring out the stupid coffee machines took much longer than it should have, but she got it eventually. What she didn’t get, however, was any headway with Finn. She’s tried everything she can think of, from writing her phone number on the stupid little cups to making a lopsided little heart in his latte foam. At least he laughs at her jokes and smiles back when she smiles at him. It’s not really much but they’re friendly. It’s just damn near impossible to build any kind of relationship with someone you only see for three minutes at a time. On top of that Poe is always hovering over her shoulder, being annoyingly encouraging and flirting with everyone within eyeshot. 

And of course, Kylo keeps popping up to antagonize her. Well, most days he antagonizes her. Sometimes he just walks next to her, like it’s his job or something. It annoyed Rey at first, but when he stayed away for a few days (after she told him to go fuck a cactus) her walk home was a little lonely. Of course, he’d been insufferable when he came back, but it was nice to not be alone. She sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him that, though. 

Rey groans, burying her face in her pillows. This life is fucking weird. She’s been avoiding her phone for the past week because one of the friends she doesn’t know invited her out and she said she’d go but she didn’t and now people keep texting to see if she’s okay. She’d answer, but how the hell is she supposed to explain that she has no idea who any of these people are? Figuring out how to be a barista was hard enough, she doesn’t want to figure out how to fake a friendship. She’d much rather just deal with Kylo and how fucked up is that? She’d literally rather talk to The Devil than these strangers. She just needs to ask Finn out quickly and get this over with.

Rey rolls out of bed and is about to go about her regular routine when she catches sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair is a mess and she’s got dark circles under her eyes. She looks about as well as she feels about this whole thing. Something has to change or this is going to be worse than her regular life. That’s when she catches sight of the makeup bag sitting next to the sink. Maybe it’s time to change tactics, just a little. 

\---

“Woah, Rey, hot date tonight?” Poe asks when Rey walks through the door. 

“Here’s hoping,” Rey says. Usually, she’s not the kind of girl to wear makeup. It’s not that she’s against it, it’s just that it’s always so heavy and it takes too long and she’d rather be sleeping. Today, however, she took the time to do it right. She’s even wearing eyeshadow. And yes, she might be wearing tighter jeans and a lower cut top but that’s her prerogative. 

Rey takes her place at the cash register and waits for Finn to come in. Today she’s going to ask him to hang out. Not a date or anything. Not yet at least. She just needs to make progress. 

Finn comes in at ten after nine. Rey takes a deep breath and hopes the butterflies go away. 

“Good morning,” she says. 

“Morning. You look nice today,” Finn says. 

“Thank you. Your usual?” 

“You know it.” 

Rey rings him up but doesn’t pass the cup off just yet. “Hey, um, Finn, I was wondering -” 

“Hey, Rey,” Poe comes up next to her and stops her with a steady hand on her shoulder, “why don't you take the line real quick. I got this.” He’s talking to her, but he’s looking at Finn. Rey’s heart behinds to pound. 

“But I’m with a customer,” she says. 

“That’s alright, I got this one,” he says, throwing her a wink. 

“But I -” 

“It’s fine,” he says, more insistent this time. Rey doesn’t really have a choice in this. She slinks back to the line, staring daggers at the back of Poe’s head as he leans over the counter and chats up Finn. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Rose asks. 

Rey just tips her head back to where Poe is handing a slip of paper to Finn and Finn’s fucking blushing. Of fucking course. 

“Oh. Tough break,” Rose says. “Well, there’s still plenty of fish in the sea.” 

“That one was supposed to be my fish,” Rey says, slamming the portafilter against the bash bin. “Fucking Poe,” she mutters, watching as he keeps stealing glances at Finn, who’s sitting at a table and pretending not to notice. “Asshole.” 

“Maybe you should take a quick break?” Rose suggests. 

Oh, but she’ll do one better. Rey storms off towards the back of the building, tearing her apron off as she goes. She doesn’t stop until she’s out the side door and in the alley, where they take the trash out. “Kylo!” she shouts, “you get your ass down here right now!” 

“I see someone finally took my advice,” he says, again from behind. Always behind. 

“Fat lot of good it did me, huh?” she snaps. 

“Oh?” 

“Don’t you ‘oh’ me. You know damn well what happened.” 

“You snooze, you lose sweetheart. You had weeks to ask him out.” 

“This was supposed to be my chance to be with Finn. Mine. Not Poe’s or anyone else’s. It was supposed to be me.” She’s livid. This is the second time he’s fucked her over and she’ll be damned if it’s going to happen again. 

“You humans are all such narcissists. You all think the sun rises and sets for you. This reality doesn’t revolve around you, Rey, just like every other reality in the multiverse. Just because you have the opportunity to get what you want doesn’t make it a guarantee.” 

“What’s the point of making wishes then if I don’t actually get what I want?” 

“You got what you wanted. You were just too determined to get in your own way the whole time. It’s funny, in a way.” 

“Oh, so my frustration is funny to you?” 

Kylo raises a single eyebrow to that. “Hello?” 

“You twisted son of a bitch,” Rey spits. 

“Hey, you leave my mother out of this,” Kylo says. It’s the first time he’s raised his voice above speaking level, though it’s not quite a yell. 

“You - wait, what?” For a moment it’s like Rey’s train of thought falls completely off the tracks. “You have a mother?” 

“Yes, Rey, everyone has a mother.” 

All she can do is blink for a few moments, trying to process. Somewhere along the way she’d made it right back into his personal space. “Who’s your mom?” she asks, craning her neck to look at him. 

“Is that really what you want to be talking about right now?” he asks. 

Oh, right. She was pissed off. Rey takes a large step back and crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s bullshit that you keep doing this to me,” she says. 

“Oh no, I didn’t do anything this time. You were too slow.” 

Rey sighs. He’s right. She knows he’s right. She just doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. “Regardless, it was bullshit.” 

“So what do you want me to do about it?” Kylo asks. 

“I want to make another wish.” 

He rolls his wrist like he expects her to get on with it. 

“This time, I wish Finn and I were already married and we lived in a nice house in the suburbs,” Rey says. 

“You’re sure that’s what you want?” 

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

Kylo moves to snap his fingers, but just before he does Rey remembers one more thing. 

“Wait!” 

“What?” 

“Why did you mention Carrie Fisher the last two times you did that?” 

Kylo smiles, shaking his head. “You need magic words in order to do magic, don’t you?” 

“The magic words are Carrie Fisher?” 

“She’s a treasure.” 

“Fair enough, I guess.” 

“Now, is that all? Are we going to get on with it this time?” 

Rey nods. Kylo snaps his fingers and says the magic words and the world tilts on its axis.


	4. [Insert Some Bad Pun About Knots Here]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's got a beautiful house and a happy marriage. Too bad she's also got biology to deal with. 
> 
> Or: Definitely knot what she had in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a sex scene in this chapter! Sort of.   
> There are actually three steamy scenes, one of which will include actual sex but it's a little... abstract. You'll know what I mean when you get to it. 
> 
> This an Alpha/Beta/Omega chapter so it does contain references to the sexist and biological determinist world of most A/B/O universes. (No judgment, of course. I read them, too.) And pregnancy and reproduction are also referenced but no one gets pregnant. 
> 
> There is, technically, infidelity in this chapter as well.   
> Details about who the sex scene is with and who the infidelity happens with are in the end notes if you need them!

Rey is staring up at the ceiling, wrapped from head to toe in a soft, fluffy comforter. The room is bathed in the soft blue-grey glow of early dawn. Rey rolls over, content to fall back asleep in the warmth of her soft bed before she’s sure she actually has to get up. All those thoughts go right out the window, however, when she nearly rolls onto the sleeping man behind her. Finn is laying on his back, eyes still shut and a soft whistling coming from his nose. 

Rey’s so startled that she nearly squeals. As it is she back up so fast that she rolls right out of bed and hits the floor with a thump, nearly knocking her head on the nightstand on the way down.  Finn springs up, half asleep, and leaning over the bed.

“What are you doing down there?” he asks. 

Rey can’t fully comprehend what she’s seeing, really. Finn is leaning over her, naked from the waist up.  

“Uh,” Rey answers. Her tongue feels like it’s made of lead. 

“Did you fall out of bed again?” he asks. 

“...yeah.” 

Finn snorts, offering his hand. Rey takes and untangles herself from the blankets wrapped around her legs. Finn rolls over as Rey climbs back into bed, snuggling back into bed on their sides. 

“What time is it?” Finn asks. 

“I don’t know, “ Rey says. 

A small chuckle falls from Finn’s lips as he shakes his head. He looks so soft half-asleep like this. He leans over her, pulling the blankets up back onto the bed and overtop the two of them. His hand falls to her hip, under the blanket, and Rey is suddenly very aware that she’s not wearing any pajama bottoms. 

“It doesn’t look like it’s too early yet,” Finn says, scooting closer. He nuzzles his nose against hers and Rey’s breath catches in her chest. She stares at him, too startled to move and too hopeful for what might come next to say anything. 

Thankfully, Finn doesn’t notice. He’s too busy rubbing his cheek against her own. Rey dares to let her hand skim up his arm, down over the warm, smooth skin of his shoulders. He’s real and solid underneath her fingers, even though she would swear she’s in a dream. Finally, Finn kisses her, strong and sure like he’s done it a million times, and Rey’s head spins. Her pulse skyrockets, her whole being suddenly very awake as his lips glide against her own. He’s gentle but insistent and Rey can barely keep up with what’s happening. She sighs, letting him in as he rolls over her, pulling back just enough to shove the blankets back out of the way. 

They’re both nearly naked, Rey realizes, glancing down to find Finn in nothing but a pair of grey boxer briefs. She gulps, staring back up at him. This has moved a hell of a lot faster than she’d expected and she can feel herself trembling. 

“Are you alright, babe?” Finn asks, brushing a thumb across her cheek. 

Rey nods. Finn is above her, nearly naked. She’s not wearing pajama pants. He’s kissing her. They’re probably about to have sex. Holy shit, they’re actually about to have sex! 

Rey surges up and takes a kiss for herself, sinking her fingers into the short hair at the base of his skull. Finn grunts in surprise but follows her lead, tangling his tongue with her own and pressing his hips against her stomach. 

She catches the scent of pine in the air, almost as if she were sitting in the middle of a forest and it nearly draws her out of the moment. Finn stops too, watching her with a frown on his face. 

“What is it?” 

“Do you smell that?” Rey asks. 

Finn smiles in that crooked way he does when he’s pleased with himself. “You bet I do,” he growls, actually growls like a dog, and buries his head in her neck, licking and nipping and leaving wet kisses on her skin. 

Rey moans, loud, squirming underneath him. Her neck has always been sensitive, but this is ridiculous. The touch sends sharp shockwaves of pleasure straight down her spine and right into her vagina, nearly making her toes curl. 

“What the hell was that?” Rey gasps. 

Finn nuzzles against her neck, again sending pulse waves through her body. She digs her nails into his hair, whether to keep his still or encourage him she doesn’t know. 

“Your heat isn’t getting close, is it?” Finn asks. 

“My heat?” 

Finn chuckles. “Your gland is pretty swollen,” he says, brushing his nose against her again. Rey has to bite her lip and squeeze her legs together to keep from making more embarrassing noises. 

“My - my what?” 

She can feel Finn’s teeth against her skin. He’s an instant away from biting down when a shrill beeping pierces the air and makes them both jump. Finn rolls off of her, sitting up and hitting the alarm clock on his side of the bed. 

“Dammit,” he mutters, “it’s six thirty.” 

Rey sits up slowly, more than a little dazed. She tries not to look at Finn’s crotch but she can’t help herself. The boxer briefs really don’t do much to conceal the erection he’s got. 

“I have to go to work,” Finn pouts. 

“Oh. Okay.” The room definitely smells like a pine forest. And maybe… something sweet? She’s not sure what that other scent is. 

Finn leans over and kisses her on the lips again. “I’m gonna take a shower,” he says, slipping out of bed. 

Rey nods, hopefully smiling. Her head feels like she’s taken too much cold medicine. She’s absolutely never had that experience from a little light foreplay and she’s not sure she likes it. 

Rey slips out of bed, stretching as she does. She’s really fucking wet. Thirty minutes of heavy petting kind of wet. “What the hell did you do to me this time?” Rey mutters to herself. She half expects Kylo to appear right then and there, but he doesn’t. 

Rey gets dressed, figuring she’ll worry about a shower after Finn leaves before opening their bedroom door and heading out to see exactly what Kylo decided to throw her way this time. 

It’s actually a really nice house and she’s definitely surprised. Finn and Rey’s bedroom is at the end of a decent sized hallway at the top of a staircase. There’s an open area at the bottom of the stairs containing a piano and a few bookshelves opposite the wall where the long windows sit. The rest of the house is an open floor plan, with half walls that separate the kitchen from the dining room and full walls with wide arches that separate the living room from everything else. The floors are hardwood so shiny Rey can see herself in the polish, and the walls are decorated with art Rey’s never seen in her life. It looks expensive, though. She hopes it’s expensive. 

The kitchen is something ripped straight out of one of Rey’s daydreams. It’s large, open, and flooded with natural light from the windows and skylight above. There’s an induction stove, the fridge has a freaking touch screen, and the countertops are all white granite. Rey, of course, has to kiss the cool stone. She’s never had granite countertops before, and these are more beautiful than she could have hoped for. 

Rey then sets to work making omelets, because she actually has a decent mixer to beat the whites with. Finn comes down from the bathroom sometimes later, fully dressed in a suit and tie. Rey very nearly cuts herself instead of the mushrooms she was dicing when she sees him. And of course, he just leans in close and kisses her cheek like it’s nothing. It probably is to him. 

They don’t speak until after the omelets are done and Finn’s had at least two cups of coffee. 

“Don’t forget I’ve got that meeting with the Tico sisters today. I’ll try not to let it run too long but no promises,” Finn says. “If it goes well today they’re going to want me to visit the property relatively soon.” 

“Okay.” 

“You’re not going to need me to stay home today, are you? I can if you need me to, but once I’m out of the house it’s going to be hard to cancel. Especially if the Ticos want me on a plane tonight.”  

“No, why would I need you to stay home today? I’m not sick.” 

Finn shrugs. “It is that time of year again.” 

“What does what time of year it is have to do with anything?” 

“Babe,” Finn reaches over, squeezing her hand, “I know you’re a big girl and you can take care of yourself, but we both know how bad the first forty-eight hours are for you. I don’t want to be away from you when your heat hits if I can avoid it.” 

“My what? What are you even talking about?” 

Finn’s brow pinches tight as he frowns. “Your heat. It’s coming up soon, isn’t it?” 

“What?” 

Finn sighs. He opens his mouth to speak again when his phone goes off. “One second,” he digs into his pocket, “I gotta take this real quick.” He stands, answering the phone and walking off towards the den. Rey can still hear his conversation, which is mostly just Finn repeating the phrase “yes sir” in between pauses. 

Meanwhile, Rey clears their plates, trying not to worry too much about how she feels like there are rocks rolling around in her stomach. Whatever this “heat” Finn is talking about is apparently a thing that they’ve dealt with before, and the first two days of it are going to suck. The worst possible scenarios barrel through her mind. Did this mean she was going to start getting really hot and sweaty? Was she going to spontaneously combust? Hopefully, it won’t be the later. There can’t be anything worse than that. 

Finn comes back into the kitchen, tucking his phone into his pocket. “I’ve got to run,” he says, “but I’m calling someone to help you out today.” 

“Help me out? What does that mean?” 

“You know what it means, love.” 

“No, I really don’t. What do I need help with?” 

“Just -” Finn sighs, “be safe today. And call me if you need anything, okay?” 

“Okay?” 

“I love you,” Finn says. 

He kisses her and all the air leaves her lungs. Her head is still spinning when he pulls away and Rey barely manages to stutter out an “I love you” before he turns around and heads out the door. But he said it, didn’t he? He really just told her that he loves her. And she said it back. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. 

Rey can’t stop herself from giggling as the realization hits her. She takes one more look around the kitchen before sprinting into the den to check out the rest of her absolutely gorgeous house. The kitchen, it turns out, was just the appetizer. There are leather couches in the den and a fireplace bigger than her tv back home. There’s a full laundry room, one with an energy saving washer-dryer set and an ironing board that doesn’t look like it could collapse at any minute. Upstairs there’s an office with a desktop and several bookcases, and down the hall from the bedroom she shares with Finn sits a spare bedroom sparsely filled. 

The living room downstairs is bigger than her entire apartment. She plops down on the overstuffed couch and it nearly swallows her. She turns on the tv and flips through the channels. If there’s anything that’s going to give her an idea of how different this world is from her own, it’s what’s on tv. 

The local news is first. It’s a sunny spring day in Albuquerque, apparently, which is good news. At least she’s been to Albuquerque before. The morning news is mostly fluff pieces about gap-toothed children raising money for new playgrounds and kittens up for adoption, but she catches something she’s almost certain she didn’t hear right. 

“Channing Tatum gave birth to a baby girl over the weekend. The baby girl, Sadie, was born at home just after three am this Saturday. Tatum’s alpha, Aaron, says that baby and omega are doing just fine,” the anchor lady says. 

Rey isn’t sure she understood what she’s just heard. How the hell could Channing Tatum have a baby? That doesn’t… what? 

She clicks away from the news, hoping she just misheard. 

“Up next, the secret your otolaryngologist doesn’t want you to know: how to maximize your scent compatibility with nearly anyone,” some guy in scrubs says into the camera. 

“Scent compatibility?” Rey mutters. 

The next few commercials are for the usual kind of things - cereal, cell phone services, diet pills, but it’s the last one that really confuses the hell out of her. It’s an advertisement for… well, she isn’t completely sure. It’s some kind of birth control, maybe, but it also won’t interfere with “slick production” which is probably the grossest way of referring to getting wet Rey has ever heard in her life. 

“What the hell is this universe?” Rey asks herself. 

The doorbell rings and Rey squirms her way out of the folds of the couch and to the front door. She peeks through the peephole and heaves a heavy sigh. He’s got to show up everywhere, doesn’t he? 

“What do you want?” She calls through the door. 

“That’s not a very polite way to answer the door,” Kylo calls back. 

“How’s ‘go away or I’ll call the cops?’ Is that better for you?” 

“Go ahead. Your husband  _ asked _ me to come over so you’ll be wasting their time.” 

Rey rolls her eyes, opening the door just enough to poke her head out. “Why would Finn call you?” 

“Because I make the rules and you’re fun to fuck with.” 

Rey sneers at him. “Well, you can leave. I don’t know what he thinks you’re here to do or how you’ve messed with his head but I’m fine.” 

Kylo snorts. “Are you? No burning questions about the cruel world I’ve dumped you in this time?” 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll tell me whether I want you to or not.” 

Kylo pushes the door open, scooting Rey back on her heels as she tries to keep him out. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t,” he says. He doesn’t even bother looking at her as he makes his way towards the living room. 

Rey huffs and slams the door, following him deeper into the house. “How does Finn even know you here?” Rey asks. 

“We used to work together,” Kylo says as he pokes around in her fridge, “before he quit and met you.” 

“And you do what? Real estate… something?” 

“City planning.” 

“So you throw darts at a map and decide where to build a housing complex?” 

Kylo doesn’t answer. Instead, he steals a yogurt from the fridge, licking the foil top before tossing it in the trash and digging through her silverware drawer.

“You’re awful comfortable in my house,” Rey says, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I’m over here a lot,” he says. 

“Whatever,” Rey says. “Like I told Finn, I don’t need any help so you can leave.” 

“You say that now, but your scent says otherwise.” 

Rey tries to sniff herself but doesn’t catch anything too offensive. “I can take a shower by myself.” 

“Oh, no sweetheart, that’s not what I meant.” He makes a show of licking the back of his spoon and Rey can’t decide if it’s meant to be gross or seductive. Somehow it's both. 

“Are you being perverted again?” 

“Always,” Kylo says.

“What did you mean then?” Rey asks, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“You can't smell yourself? Really?” 

Rey blanches, taking a step back. “Oh like you smell like a field of daisies,” she bites back. 

Kylo stalks forward until he's inches away from her. As much as Rey wants to recoil she keeps her feet planted to the wood beneath her. He leans forward, their noses almost brushing. And that's when she's completely caught off guard by the way he smells. The smoke that's been clinging to his skin is still there, but it's different this time. He doesn't smell like ashes or the acrid smoke that sticks to the back of your throat and burns. No, he smells like… cherry wood and the sweet smoke that rolls off gently burning logs. He smells like the subtle musk of a lonely forest, of the smoky air under a blanket of stars, and sticky, burnt marshmallows. 

“Lilac,” he says, “you smell like lilac and lake water.” 

“Lake water?” 

“Not bad lake water. Like…” he snaps his fingers as he struggles to find the right words, “like when you're sitting in a boat in the middle of a lake and it smells like algae and earth but not like rot and decay? That's what you smell like.” 

“Well, you smell like marshmallows.” 

Kylo has the audacity to laugh. “Do I, now? You’re sure?” 

Rey narrows her eyes at him. “Yes, I’m sure.” She finds herself drifting closer to his neck and the source of his sweet, smoky aroma. If it were anyone else she might admit that he smells good, but she’s not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. Her nose just barely brushes his skin. 

He pulls away much too quickly, and Rey nearly overbalances and falls forward. Kylo clicks his tongue. “Oh, Rey, scenting a man who isn’t your husband? What would the neighbors think?” 

Rey rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. Since when is smelling someone inappropriate?” 

“The rules are a lot different here,” he says. “All kinds of social taboos around smells and sex. In some ways, it’s worse than what you’re already used to.” 

“Well, then what does that make you, tempting a married woman to smell you? If I’m being inappropriate then so are you,” Rey huffs. 

“It makes me a dirty slut, but what else is new? Anyway, we have things to do so go get dressed.” 

“I am dressed,” Rey says, gesturing to herself, “and I’m not going anywhere with you.” 

Kylo frowns, raising a single eyebrow as his eyes sweep up her body. “Sweatpants. Really?” 

“Get over yourself.” 

He snaps his fingers and Rey’s in an orange sundress and sandals, her hair curled in loose waves around her shoulders instead of up in a messy ponytail like it was. “Hey!” she snaps. 

“You’re welcome,” he says, “now are you going to come with me or am I going to have to zap you into the car as well?” 

“Where do you think you’re taking me?” Rey asks. 

“You have errands to run.” 

“And you’re going with me because..?” 

“Fine. If you want to brave the world by yourself and commit all manner of social faux paus be my guest. Just don’t blame me when this inevitably comes crashing down at your feet and you wind up pseudo-mated to whoever smells the nicest.” 

Rey rolls her eyes. There’s obviously something about this world that she doesn’t quite understand, and of all the people she’s going to have to deal with, Kylo is probably the one who will be more willing to tell her than anyone else. Finn might, but seeing as how he thinks she’s in on whatever it is, he’s probably not going to give her all the answers she needs. She could stay home and try to find answers on her own, but finding out where to even being is a challenge. 

Honestly, he’s her best bet at this point, and unfortunately, he knows it. 

“Fine,” Rey says. “Your car or mine?” 

* * *

 

Kylo drives a Maserati, of course. It's probably because he's a dick who can read minds and knows that Rey loves fast cars with sleek interiors. Either that, or he's a flashy asshole. It could be both. It's likely both. 

Either way, it leaves Rey sitting in a luxury Italian car, trying to not be obvious about how she's running her fingers over the leather and biting her lip to keep from smiling when he pushes past ninety on the freeway. He catches her, though, and smirks, turning down the radio so she can hear the roar of the engine better as it speeds down the tarmac. Stupid dick. 

“So what's the deal with this universe?” Rey asks. She's not sure she actually wants to talk to him, but she'd rather get that smug look off his face. 

“You'll have to be more specific,” he says. 

“Why do I smell like a lake? And why do you smell like marshmallows?” 

“Biology. In this universe, various species of co-dominant humans evolved at the same time, like yours. However, the ones that ultimately became the only humans were much more lupine in nature.” 

“Lupine? Like wolves? We’re werewolves?” 

“No, like peas,” Kylo says. 

Rey rolls her eyes. “Smartass.” 

“And what’s a heat?” Rey asks as they pull off the freeway. 

Kylo smiles. “It’s an omega thing. And, sometimes a beta thing, but that’s complicated and no one knows how it works, nor do they care.” 

“Yes, but what is it?” 

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. Your body goes into overdrive. Your skin flushes, pulse races, muscles contract violently. You’ll be soaked in sweat for days and you’ll feel like your blood is boiling in your veins. And there’s almost nothing you can do to stop it.” 

Rey gulps around the lump in her throat. “Almost nothing?” 

“Enthusiastic marathon sex helps.” 

Rey lets out a disgusted huff as she rolls her eyes. “I’m serious, Kylo.” 

“I am, too. Heats are for reproduction. You are, at least tangentially, a wolf, after all.” 

“There’s got to be like, a pill or something to stop it.” 

Kylo hums, frowning. “You’d think so, nothing reliable. Most of them are prone to failure.” 

“That’s just…” Rey sits there with her mouth agape while they pull into the parking lot of a strip mall. Kylo double parks in the back of a row. “So you’re saying if I don’t have sex with some guy I’ll be miserable for however long my heat is?” 

“An Alpha, but yes.” 

“Aren’t men Alphas?” 

“Most of them. Not all.” 

Kylo gets out of the car and Rey finds herself chasing after him, not realizing for a moment that he’s already left. 

“So wait,” she says, “if not all men are Alphas does that mean some of them have to deal with this heat shit, too?” 

“Mmmhmm.” 

“But you said it was for reproduction.” 

Kylo stops on the sidewalk, turning to face her. “I told you it was a lot different from what you’re used to.” 

“How does that even work?” Rey mutters. 

Kylo shakes his head. “Now, I know you know how that works.” He turns around and walks right into one of the stores, making Rey chase after him yet again. 

Rey barges through the door. “I don’t know anything about gay sex,” she says, much too loudly and right in front of a silver-haired old woman who’s trying to walk out the door as Rey walks in. 

“Well good for you,” the old woman says, “you don’t have to announce it to the world.” 

“Sorry,” Rey mutters, biting looking down at the ceramic tiles beneath her feet. 

“Omegas these days. No respect for anything or anybody. No wonder no one’s getting mated anymore,” the old woman mutters, pushing past Rey. 

Kylo, who’s only standing five feet away, is as amused as ever. Rey scowls but doesn’t say anything as she follows him deeper into the store. 

It’s a home goods store and, despite the company, she’s actually excited about it. Rey snags a shopping cart before losing Kylo somewhere between the door and the kitchen appliances. She's not concerned with him leaving, and there are things to look at and maybe even buy. She oggles various kitchen appliances that she's pretty sure she doesn't need bit definitely wants, like a Vitamix that's on sale for only 800 dollars. How a blender is that expensive is beyond her, even if it can heat soup while it blends. A waffle iron does make it into her basket, though, as does a chicken shaped cookie jar. She's sure she'll get at least a little use out of both. 

She almost rams right into Kylo as she comes out of the glassware aisle, three pairs of wine glasses and a corkscrew also sitting in her cart, now. 

“There you are,” he says, “what are you doing over here?” 

“Shopping?” 

Kylo looks down at her basket. “You don't need any of that.” 

“Who said anything about needing?” 

Kylo raises an eyebrow. “I hadn’t considered you’d be prone to greed,” he says.

“Greed? No! I’m an adult. I’m allowed to want things.” 

Kylo hums and turns away. Rey purposefully rams into him with her shopping cart. He swears under his breath as he's knocked off balance and nearly trips. Rey snickers. 

“What was that about?” He puts about an arm's length of distance between the basket and himself. 

“You're being a dick again,” she says. 

“You should expect that by now.” 

“And you should expect me to retaliate by now.” 

Kylo shakes his head, his lip barely curling upwards in just the suggestion of a smile. “You’d make a decent imp, you know,” he says. 

“Thanks. I’ll put that on my resume.” 

Kylo laughs. He says something else but Rey doesn’t hear it. She’s too busy staring at the bedroom display at the end of the open aisle, sitting against the far wall. It’s a bedroom set for a little girl, with purple sheets and furry pillows and a canopy over the bed. There’s even a string of fairy lights around the posts. 

“I think that might be a little young for you,” Kylo says. He’s behind her now, practically breathing down her neck. 

“My foster sister had something like that,” she says. “Back when I was little. I thought it was the coolest thing to have a big drape over your bed, like a princess. I used to sneak into her room when she was away and pretend I was sleeping beauty or a fairy living in a flower pod. She used to chase me out of the room and hit me with her shoe.” 

She looks back at Kylo, expecting a snarky remark but he says nothing, his eyes on the display. 

“She was such a bitch. And no, I’m not bitter or jealous. She was one of the worst. She didn’t let me play with her dolls either. She said -” Rey stops, the words caught in her throat. She hasn’t thought about the Danvers in a long time. She hasn’t thought about any of her foster families in a long time. Most of them were okay people. Most, but not all. 

“She was full of shit,” Kylo says. She doesn’t have to tell him what her foster sister had said, he already knows. He knows everything. “Besides, what would a ten-year-old know about child rearing anyway?” he adds. 

Rey smiles. “Well, she sure thought she did.” 

“People who know nothing,” Kylo says, “tend to believe they know it all. Especially when it comes to the personal lives and traumas of others.” 

Rey looks up at him, trying to get a read on what he’s playing at. There’s nothing in his expression that gives him away, but his eyes are… softer almost. 

“Come on,” he says, guiding her by the elbow, “let’s leave that little bitch in the past and get something nice.” 

Rey snorts and lets herself be lead away. 

* * *

 

“Nesting,” Kylo says. “That's what you're doing. Which means we shouldn't be out here much longer.” 

They're on the surface streets again and Kylo is drumming his fingers against the steering wheel every few seconds. 

“It wasn't my fault. You're the one who said I needed sheets.” 

“Sheets yes, but you didn't need the comforter or the wine glasses or the ceramic chicken.” 

“I -” 

“I know,” he cuts her off. “I know. You can't control it.” He bites his upper lip before letting out a tiny huff. If Rey didn't know any better, she'd say he almost looks nervous. 

“Kylo? Is everything alright?” Her voice sounds small. 

“You're fine,” he says. 

“That doesn't answer my question,” Rey says. Her stomach churns.

Kylo nods like it's somehow an answer to what she's just said. 

The silence in the car is a lot worse than it was before. The irritation she could deal with, but now there's a feeling of dread that hangs heavy over both of them, like an oil slick over water, choking everything underneath it. What's worse is that Rey isn't sure if it's her dread or his. 

Kylo pulls into another parking lot and half-asses his parking again. 

“Stay here,” he says. “I’ll be right back. Lock the doors and don't let anyone in.” 

Rey opens her door in sync with him. “What’s the matter with you?” 

“Rey. I'm serious.” 

“About what? What the hell is your problem? Why are you acting so weird all of the sudden?” 

Kylo sighs. “You really can't feel it? You smell like a field of flowers, Rey. You're practically radiating sex.” 

Rey sniffs her wrist but she's not getting anything. All she can smell, actually, is caramelized sugar. 

“Stay in the car.” 

“Aren't you supposed to be helping me?” she asks.

“Yes. That's why -” 

“That's why you're going to keep me in your sight and not leave me in the middle of the parking lot.” 

Kylo throws his head back and groans. “Why are you so stubborn? What part of ‘you smell like rolling around naked in a field of flowers’ are you not getting? Everyone in there is going to be on you the second you walk in there.” 

“It's a grocery store,” Rey says. “Who's dumb enough to try anything in a grocery store?” 

Kylo mutters something under his breath but then finally acquiesces. “Stay in my sight,” he says. 

He’s out of the car but at least this time he waits for her to get out, too. Two things happen once they walk through the sliding doors and into the produce section; first, Rey can physically feel the weight of dozens of eyes on her and second, her stomach constricts so suddenly and strongly that she nearly hits her knees. Thankfully, Kylo is there to catch her. 

“I told you this was a bad idea,” he says. 

Rey rolls her eyes. Yeah, it’s weird but come to think of it, she hasn’t eaten anything all day long. Of course, she’d be hungry, if not ravenous by now. Being in a grocery store probably doesn’t help matters. 

“I’m hungry,” she says, eyeing the wall of pre-cut fruit in the freezer case on the far wall. 

Kylo sighs, physically dragging her by the elbow away from the produce. “This was a terrible idea,” he mutters to himself. 

“I want strawberries,” Rey says. 

Kylo’s barely got the shopping cart in her hands before she’s running over his foot and heading back to the fruit, putting two whole cartons of strawberries into the basket. A little tub of chocolate sauce makes its way into the basket, too, because chocolate covered strawberries sound divine. The mangos catch her eye next, and before she even realizes what she’s doing she’s stuffing the softest ones she can find into a plastic bag. The only reason that doesn’t make it into the basket is because Kylo grabs it. 

“Hey! I wanted those!” 

“I know, but you can’t just buy every sweet thing in here.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because we’ve got thirty minutes tops before we need to get out of here.” 

“But -” Rey doesn’t have time to object before Kylo is caging her in around the basket and physically pushing both her and it through the store. Rey can only hang on to the bar and stand on the bar connecting the wheels if she doesn’t want to get pushed under it. 

She’s much more aware of the looks she’s getting now, too. Women shake their heads and smile, but most of the men are chasing her with their eyes. Some of them even bare their teeth. Rey swallows, torn between ignoring it and snapping at them. She really, really wants to snap at them, but it’s like there’s a physical barrier keeping the words and aggression in. Rey does her best to stare them down right back, but something tells her she’s not doing a great job of being intimidating.

They blow through several aisles, Kylo half chucking things into the basket. He looks nervous and that delicious roast marshmallow scent of his is smelling more and more like ash as they go. Maybe he’s trying to play with her like he always does, because if he was really that worried he could just take them home, right? It can’t be that serious. But he still looks awfully nervous. 

They nearly blow past the snack aisle, but Rey slams her heels onto the linoleum, causing Kylo to nearly fall on top of her. 

“What are you doing?” he hisses. 

“I want chocolate.” 

Kylo sighs and turns down the aisle. “We have to make this quick,” he says. 

Rey wiggles out from underneath his arms and grabs a bag of peanut butter cups off the shelf, then a bag of chocolate kisses, and a half pound bar of chocolate with almonds. 

She’s grabbing two cans of chocolate covered potato chips when Kylo steers her away from the shelf by the elbow. She fights him off, suddenly very angry and very upset. Her eyes burn and she realizes that she’s about to start crying. 

“No!” Rey grumbles. “You don’t understand, I need chocolate.” 

“I do understand, but you don’t need all the chocolate in the store.” 

Then Rey does something she didn’t even know she was capable of. She growls at him. The noise that comes out of her doesn’t even sound human. 

“Rey -” Kylo edges towards her, palms up in defense. 

Rey keeps growling, her whole body trembling. She’s vaguely aware that she’s crying and that her pulse is pounding. She’s like an engine stuck on high idle. 

“Alright, fuck this,” Kylo says, and quicker than she can react he's getting her off the ground and carrying her down the aisle. 

“Put me down!” she snaps, pounding her fists against his chest. It's no use, of course.

No one seems to really pay much attention as Kylo carries Rey off. They're either the world's most apathetic bystanders or this kind of thing happens all the time. Rey's not sure which is worse. 

Rey is still in tears, her body nearly vibrating as Kylo straps her into the car. Her skin starts crawling as the pull onto the freeway. 

“Is this -” 

“Yup.” Kylo rolls the windows down.

The noise of the wind racing by drowns out her whimpers and the breeze does make her skin feel a little better, but it's not enough. 

She tries to get ahold of herself and to stop crying but it doesn't seem to work out. She doesn't even know why she's so upset, just that she is. Her stomach rolls and the queasy longing for home sits heavy inside her.

“I want to go home,” she says. 

“Working on it,” Kylo says. His eyes drift over to her but snap back to the road in an instant. 

Rey throws her head back and closes her eyes. She does eventually manage to stop crying, but the longing inside gets worse, turning into an ache akin to heartbreak. On top of that, she's acutely aware of what her body is doing. Her neck is throbbing and she's sweating like she's run a half marathon, making her stick to the leather seats and her dress cling in all the wrong places.

As she fans her legs with the hem of her skirt, Kylo does something she's not expecting. Her jerks the wheel, but the look on his face says it was as unexpected to him as it was to her. They straighten out without incident, but it jostles Rey enough to peel her thighs off the seat. The vibrations of the car are starting to get to her, humming through her thighs and tingling where they settle between her legs. 

“Oh God,” she mutters, half in frustration and half in need. 

“Please, please don't mention him right now.”

“Fuck you, you did this to me!” Rey snaps. He's lucky she doesn't start listing off all the saints she knows. 

"Yeah, I know!" he snaps back. 

"Why the hell are you so pissy? You're not the one dying over here?" 

Kylo actually whines and something in the steering wheel cracks in his grip. She's not sure, but she thinks she hears him mutter "I'm a fucking idiot." That could be her own wishful thinking, however. 

They tear through the exit and rest of the surface streets, nearly clipping several cars in the process. Rey isn’t concerned. Whatever happens, she knows she’s not in any real danger. Kylo isn’t going to risk her life, insane driving aside. And the fact that they haven’t hit a red light yet makes her even more certain that they’ll be okay. 

Kylo parks on the street, nearly taking out the mailbox in the process. He shuts off the car and drops his forehead to the top of the wheel, fingers clenched tight around the gear shift. Neither of them says anything, and the only sound besides the ticking of the car as it cools is the panting they’re both doing. 

The scent in the air finally hits her. It’s like stepping inside a flower shop; sweet and light at first but quickly becoming too much, like bad floral perfume. It’s not just that, though, there’s also the sticky sweet smell of candy, not like chocolate but spun sugar instead. 

“Can you walk?” Kylo asks, rolling his head to look at her. 

Rey shifts, whimpering when her thighs press together. “I can walk by myself,” she insists, opening the car door and rising to her feet. 

She instantly regrets it. It’s like the feeling of being on a freefall drop at an amusement park when your stomach falls faster than you do. Except it’s not just her stomach. It’s as if everything inside her had been hovering just outside her body and it’s been slammed back inside all at once. 

She doesn’t hit the ground. Her legs give out, yes, but Kylo’s on her before she has the chance to land. He’s so damn close, crowding into her space and her senses. It makes her dizzy. He’s got a hand on her waist as he leads her up the walkway. It’s a good thing, too, because Rey’s not sure she’d be able to pay attention to where she’s going.  Right now, the only thing she can pay attention to is where he’s touching her. The front lawn, the porch, the entryway of her home are all disjointed, distorted, and unimportant. None of it matters as much as the minute tremble of Kylo’s hands on her body, or the way he’s worrying his lip, or the single bead of sweat rolling down his neck. 

When he starts to pull away she moves on instinct, pulling his hands back to her, down on her hips. She takes a fistful of his shirt for herself, and that throws him off balance, crowding even further into her space and pushing her into the front door. 

She should be pissed. He did this to her. She’s hot and wet and her heart is beating so fast she’s almost worried it’s going to give out. She should hate him right now for taking control right out of her hands. But he smells like smoke and sweetness and - and what she’d imagine a romantic fire in the living room of a private ski lodge might smell like. And he’s really tall and very strong and if she just jumped on him right now he’d probably catch her. 

“Rey?” 

She jerks him down as she rises up on her toes and kisses him. Hard. Kylo responds by squeezing her hips and shoving her against the door with his. She quivers, but she still kisses him like she’ll die if she doesn’t. Hell, she actually might. 

She paws at him with her free hand, digging her nails into his shoulder blade when he rolls his hips against her. Just the feel of his dick, even through all the layers between them, makes her core ache. She rocks against him, just faintly aware that she’s doing it. 

He kisses like he can’t make up his mind what he wants to do to her. He traces his tongue against hers, nipping at her lips, even pulling off to breathe in her ear as he teases the soft spot behind it with hungry licks. It’s too much to keep up with so she doesn’t even bother, letting him lead her into this frantic whirlwind of need. She cries out, her knees buckling as he bites down on her neck. It’s going to bruise, she can already feel it And she doesn’t give a damn. 

Kylo pulls away sudden enough that Rey nearly stumbles in her attempt to follow him. They’re both struggling to catch their breaths already. When she’s finally able to comprehend the world around her she’s struck by how red his eyes are. Not bloodshot. His irises are blood red. For a moment she’d forgotten that, no matter what he looked like, he wasn’t a man. Maybe it should frighten her, the fact that she’s got herself wrapped around The Devil, hoping he’ll put his lips all over her body. But it doesn’t. She couldn’t care less. Right now she just hopes what they say about supernatural stamina is true. 

“This is not a good idea,” Kylo pants. 

Rey doesn’t mean to whine, it just happens. 

“I know, I know,” Kylo huffs, squeezing her hips again. 

“But - I need -” she doesn’t recognize the pitchy whine her voice has become. 

Kylo licks his lips, staring up at the ceiling. “I know. Believe me, I know.” 

“Please,” Rey whimpers. 

This time he starts it, reeling her in and kissing down her neck. She bites her lip but it’s no use. She wails when his teeth scrape across a particularly sensitive spot on her neck. Her neck has always been sensitive, but it’s never been this bad. 

“What are you doing to me?” she wonders out loud. 

“It’s biology,” he says, licking up her throat. “I have no control over it,” he kisses her lips as his hands finally drift down her hips and over her ass. “You have no idea,” he kisses her lips, “how much” another kiss, “I wish I did right now.” He punctuates his sentence by biting her bottom lip. 

“Why?” Rey groans, letting her head fall back as he leaves kisses on her collar bones. 

“Fuck, I don’t know,” he says, lifting her suddenly. She grabs onto his shoulders, finally at an even height with him. “You’re married,” he says. 

That should be enough to make her stop. Normally, it would. Fuck. She’s married to fucking Finn for god sakes and they almost had sex just hours ago. And now she’s kissing the literal devil, practically dry humping him, and her shame isn’t enough to make her stop. Goddammit, she’s married! 

“Fuck,” Rey whines. 

Kylo squeezes her ass, hands drifting to guide her thighs around his waist. “We’ll get him over here. It’ll be okay and you’ll get through this.” 

“Why?” Rey blurts out. This situation is insane. Her body is moving on its own with total disregard for what she thinks. She’s horny enough that she just might have sex with any stranger who offered. Her body is dripping sweat and - whatever else. And the fucking devil is the one who’s telling her to chill. “Why do you care?” 

“Because I do.” 

“But I can’t - “ Rey throws her head back so hard it makes her dizzy. “I’m losing my fucking mind here!” 

Kylo’s chest shudders against her own. “Finn’ll take care of it.” 

“Why can’t you take care of it?” 

“Because I can’t.” 

“Why not? “

“Because.” 

“Because isn’t a fucking answer, Kylo!” 

Rey isn’t aware they’ve made it to her bedroom until her back hits the comforter and she’s hit with the fresh, woodsy scent she now knows is Finn. It’s suddenly the only thing in the world that’s sharp and clear. 

“Because,” Kylo says, peeling her hands off of him, “I can’t. As much as I want to, I can’t give you what you need. And even if I could, I wouldn’t.” His voice is gentle now and oddly soothing. 

“You said omegas need alphas.” 

“I did,” he says with a sigh. He comes down to his knees, resting his chin on her bed. 

The tension in Rey’s body starts to lessen. She stretches out, no longer feeling like her insides are being compressed by some unseen force. Her mind clears a bit, too. Maybe it’s because she and Kylo aren’t touching anymore. Or maybe it’s being surrounded by the smell of Finn and her and their bed and their home. Their home that smells like a meadow in a forest, starry nights, the laughter of children, ghost stories, s’mores, wonder and innocence, freedom, possibility - family. 

She takes a deep breath, letting the safe aroma of her bedroom linger inside her. “So if I’m an omega and you can’t help me, does that mean you’re..?” 

Kylo nods. 

“Why would you do that to yourself? This is terrible.” 

Kylo laughs. “I didn’t. I just have a talent for fucking myself over. It’s almost impressive, how well I do it, actually.” 

“Are you okay?” Rey asks. 

Kylo makes the strangest face, though it’s definitely not directed at her. “Pretty sure I’ll live,” he says. 

They’re quiet for a bit, the heat no longer unbearable but simmering in the air and under their skin. 

“Finn’s on his way,” Kylo says suddenly. “Flight’s been canceled.” 

Rey huffs and rolls her eyes. “You can cancel flights but you can’t just poof us home? You just had to drive?” 

Kylo’s eyes widen. “Oh.” 

Rey snorts. 

“Don’t laugh at me! You didn’t think about it either.” 

Rey still giggles until he flicks her arm. Then she pouts and giggles. 

Rey turns towards the door when she hears a car pull into the driveway. “Are you going to -” she turns to look at him but Kylo’s gone. And it’s stupid, she knows it is, but she hopes wherever he went to that he’s okay. 

That is the last coherent thought she has before Finn walks in the bedroom. After, she’s a mess again. 

It happens like it does in dreams, though without the disappointing lack of an ending. She loses track of time, of movement, of everything. She’s the one who gets Finn’s shirt open, sighing in relief when her hands meet his skin. Her legs tremble as he slips her skirt over her thighs and midway to her stomach. Finn’s lips are on her own, on her neck, on her stomach, the inside of her thigh. She nearly stops breathing when he slides her panties down her legs; she does when he slides his fingers over her slick lips, just enough pressure on either side of her swollen center to make her howl. 

If only she could slow down this moment, or at least rewind to the parts she’s missed in her haze. This isn’t what she’d wanted for their first time. She at least wanted to be aware of everything, to tase the sweat on his skin and find the places that make him shudder and groan. She’d wanted to tease him until he pushed her into the bed and whipped his belt off with lust burning in his eyes. 

But she is lost. She’s lost in the way her body screams to be touched and the way it sings when she is. She’s lost in the soft murmuring Finn’s doing in her ear and the way his thumbs feel against her nipples. She’s lost in the scent of pine and tree sap, wet, sun-warmed stones and slowly dying embers. She’s somewhere else mentally, but physically he’s so very present. 

She snaps out of it the second Finn starts pushing into her. She scrambles for his shoulders, frantic somehow, that’s she’s going to miss it. Finn kisses her cheeks then the tip of her nose. She groans like a wounded animal when he’s sheathed all the way inside her. She’s spasming around him and it would be painful if she weren’t so wound up. 

But it doesn’t hurt. No, the opposite, actually. She can’t control her shaking limbs anymore, or the sounds she’s making and she’s already on the brink of an orgasm and fuck if that’s not the best thing in the world right now. She’s only capable of looking Finn in the eyes and panting, hoping he understands her telepathically or something. 

Rey throws her head back and moans as he drags out of her, then back in. He’s slow and careful and adjusting her legs so she won’t wind up cramping. If Rey were more aware of herself, she’d savor that fact that this is Finn, her husband, being so careful with her. But she’s laser-focused on what’s going on between her legs. 

After the first orgasm, her body stays on that edge, taut like a string, as Finn works himself in and out, over and over, like their synchronized panting. His thrusts become harder after a while, more desperate in a way she can’t begin to understand. He leans over her, nipping her neck and stealing all sound from her throat. She digs her nails into his back. 

When she comes for the second time it’s with Finn. She screams, completely out of her mind with all of it. She isn’t truly back until Finn rolls them over. 

“You should’ve told me to stay home,” he says, petting her hair. 

“I didn’t know,” she says. 

She winces as she tries to wiggle away. There’s an impossible, uncomfortable pressure inside her, highlighting all the other places she’s sore. She looks down, finding herself and Finn still joined together. 

Oh, right. The wolf thing. Fuck. 

“This one is pretty bad,” Finn says. He strokes his fingers up and down her arm. Thankfully that doesn’t wind her up at this point. 

“I was okay for a minute,” she says, nuzzling close. “When I was here. Until you came home.” 

Finn chuckles. “Sorry,” he says through a smile. 

Maybe this universe won’t be so bad after all. 

* * *

 

Her heat lasts for a week and it is, quite possibly, the worst experience of her life. 

Finn is a sweetheart and he does what he can: feeding her, bathing her, fucking her, and holding her in the times between bouts of desperation. But, as sweet as he is, it doesn’t change how fucking awful she feels. The heat wakes her every few hours and there’s nothing other than sex that states it. She hasn’t had a real meal in all the time she’s been here, either. But worst of all is that she’s utterly dependent on Finn. The sex is incredible, but needing to be fed and bathed and helped with every little thing is embarrassing and frustrating. She doesn’t want to be so completely dependent on another person, not over something she can actually control. 

Her heat is over now, but she loathes the idea of getting out of bed. The sheets are clean now and don’t smell like anything but soap, which makes it all a lot easier to manage. The smells have really fucked with her over the last week, to the point that she could taste them on her tongue. And trying to eat cheese cubes when you can taste pine needles isn’t a great experience. 

She’s still in bed, wearing only one of Finn’s shirts, drifting in and out of sleep when Kylo pops back in. 

“Morning, starlight,” he says, sitting on the bed next to her. “You look tired.” 

She snorts, taking him in. He looks - terrible. There are dark circles under his eyes and the usual smarmy air he puts on is gone. He’s still dressed well, but he looks like he’s a second from passing out. 

“You look like crap,” Rey says. 

Kylo rolls his eyes. “Thanks.” 

“Where were you all week?” There were times she’d expected him to pop in, just to be a dick and tease her about how damn desperate she was, but he never showed up once during her heat. Not after that first day. 

“Missed me, did you?” His lip ticks up in the briefest of smiles. 

Rey kicks him. To her surprise, he’s a little startled by it. “I was just expecting you to be an ass. You’re good at it.” 

“You missed me.” 

“Fuck off,” Rey says. This time when she tries to kick him he grabs her foot. 

“Don’t you think there’s been enough of that this week?” 

“God, yeah. I don’t think I’m going to want Finn to touch me for a month.” 

“Assuming you’re here that long,” Kylo says, dragging his nail up the sole of her foot. She squirms and almost kicks him in the face. 

“Hey, that reminds me, if you weren’t bugging me, where were you?” 

Kylo huffs. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to,’ he says. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“If you want to hear about my sexcapades then fine. I was just under the impression that you were a prude.” 

“Bite me.” 

Kylo snorts and shakes his head. “I thought you said you got plenty of that over the past week.” He tweaks her pinky toe before dropping her foot back on the bed. 

Rey groans, embarrassment burning through her. Everyone says things during sex that would be so stupid any other time. This time, some of the weird, stupid shit that came out of her mouth was downright humiliating. She was begging to be bitten, knotted, impregnated. God, it was the worst. 

“Don’t mention this past week to me again,” she says. 

“That bad?” 

“It was Hell.” 

“It was literally not.” Kylo rolls his eyes as she glares at him until he adds: “but it was close.” 

“How often is that going to happen?” 

“Every three months, probably.” 

“Probably?” 

“Your next one could be reactive. Spend too much time around a compatible mate and you’re fucked.” 

“I thought having Finn around was supposed to fix that.” 

“Would you stop finding other people attractive if you were in a relationship?” 

“Well, no.” 

“Then there you go.” 

Rey sighs, looking for patterns in the stippled ceiling. She can’t handle this shit every few months, and she really doesn't want to risk having a reactive heat. If Finn isn’t there when it happens… oh God, it already has. She kissed Kylo. No, she shoved her tongue down his throat and tried to hump him like a horny chihuahua. 

“I kissed you,” she says. 

“You did.” 

“That was…” she bites her lip. She doesn’t remember that much about it, but she remembers that it was pleasant. She does remember that he looked at her like he wanted to devour her, and that was pretty hot. But he’s The Devil and also the reason she’s in the mess. She’s trying to get with Finn. She’s not supposed to be kissing him or liking it. God, what a fucking mess. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Kylo says. 

“This is so stupid,” Rey says. “This universe sucks.” 

“You can always fix that.” 

At this point, it’s really her only choice. She’s not going to put up with this any longer than she already has. 

“I wish I was with Finn, happy, and somewhere quiet away from all this alpha/omega shit,” she says. 

Kylo lets out a heavy sigh. “Thank fuck for that,” he says. 

“What do you -” 

The words don’t leave her mouth before up is down and down is up and the world is dark again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sex scene is between Rey and Finn.   
> The infidelity is a steamy makeout session between Rey and Kylo, but it doesn't go anywhere near actual sex.   
> \----  
> When I first started reading A/B/O a lot of the fics I read made a big deal about what the characters smelled like and how those smells complimented each other and worked together to make a brand new smell. Like, someone who smelled like old books might meet someone who smelled like fresh coffee and together they'd smell like a bookstore. That doesn't seem to be as popular in the A/B/O Star Wars stuff I've read. 
> 
> Don't be shy about commenting/asking questions/telling me what you were eating when you read this!


	5. Stuck in the Middle (With You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a tiny farmhouse keeps a big secret and Kylo is surprisingly honest. 
> 
> OR: Cheaters never prosper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where we deal with the infidelity for real.   
> Also! Finnlo! (Finally)
> 
> If you have an issue with mentions of pregnancy and/or drowning I suggest you either take caution or skip this chapter. Pregnancy is mentioned, miscarriage is implied, and there is a graphic drowning so please take care of yourself.

Rey knows the world has changed before she opens her eyes. Her body is lighter immediately, warm and happy and free of all the soreness of the past few days. Instead, she can feel the sun on her skin and the cool breeze on her neck. The sweet smell of apple blossoms float through the air and a blanket of grass tickles the soles of her feet. 

She opens her eyes, finding herself in an orchard, a basket tucked into her elbow. Finn peeks out from behind a tree, bright smile on his face. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, putting his criminally thick forearms on full display. 

“It’s too bad most of these aren’t ready yet. I’d make you a pie,” Finn says, plucking a green apple off the tree. 

Rey giggles like a teenager. “You would?” 

He saunters over, slipping the fruit into her hands as he kisses her temple. “Of course,” he says, his warm breath tickling her skin. “I’d bake you a thousand pies if you asked.” 

She smiles, tucking herself into his body. He smells like dirt and sweat and clean soap, but it’s a normal, human scent. He doesn’t smell like a forest, just like a man who works the earth. She kisses his cheek and lets her forehead rest against his. Because she can do that now. They’re together here. She’s finally able to relax and it feels good. For just a moment, she lets herself forget about whatever fucked up twist is in store for her. 

“You love me, don’t you Finn?” She asks. 

“Of course I do.” 

“And we’re happy?” 

“As happy as we can be.” He’s still smiling, but his expression darkens. 

“We could be happier?” 

She means it as a question, but Finn sighs and drops her hand. 

“Rey, please don’t do this now. I’ve told you, it’s complicated.” 

It feels like she’s swallowed a rock.   _ It’s complicated  _ is never a good thing. It’s complicated means he isn’t all in. It means there’s something holding him back - 

If Kylo made her the other woman she’s going to kill him, and if it’s not possible now, she’ll find a way to make it possible. 

“It’s getting late,” Finn says. “We should head back.” 

Rey looks up where Finn’s gaze falls, up the hill. There’s one cozy looking farmhouse up there, smoke billowing from the chimney at the side of the house like a serpent. 

“Okay,” she says. She manages to keep the trepidation out of her voice. Hopefully. 

They walk in silence though they’re close enough that their fingers brush with every step. They might as well be holding hands, but Rey doesn’t risk it. She won’t until she knows what she’s working with. Voices rise as they walk up the wrap-around deck. Rey bites her lip, hoping against hope that she’s not about to walk in on what she thinks she is. 

She comes in behind Finn, into the open living room. The walls are covered in pale wood. The floors are also hardwood, but it’s darker and polished to a brilliant shine. The curtains are sunshine yellow, pulled back to let the light in. The furniture and light fixtures are plain, but not boring.  

“They must be in the kitchen,” Finn says. 

She follows, into the kitchen through the batwing doors only to freeze in her tracks a moment later. Poe is sitting at the table, his back to Finn and Rey. Him, she’s not so concerned about. But the bastard leaning against the counter sipping coffee is another story. 

“Oh, you guys are back already?” Poe asks, looking over his shoulder. 

“Just checking on things,” Finn says. “Looks like we’re going to be fighting the seasons again this year.” 

“Damn. Seems like the summer drags on later and later every year,” Poe says. 

Rey tunes the two of them out, staring at Kylo as he just stands there. In fucking blue jeans. And a t-shirt. He’s practically naked and that  _ is not _ something Rey’s really equipped to think about right now on top of everything else. 

She can’t see his lips past the coffee cup but she’d swear he’s smirking at her. Of course, he’d pull this crap. Of course, he’d insert himself into  _ this  _ reality. She’s going to punch him in the dick. 

“Honey,” Kylo drawls, setting his coffee cup on the counter. “Before I forget, Poe was just saying something about a possible warren out by the stables. Would you mind taking a look before it gets dark?” 

Rey exhales through her nose, clenching her fists. She opens her mouth to speak, but - 

“Sure,” Finn says. “Just let me get my boots on.” 

It takes everything Rey has to not gawk. She nearly squawks when Kylo beckons Finn to him and bends to kiss him. Her insides churn and blood rushes like wildfire over her skin. She has to stare down at the door and clench her teeth when Finn slips his arms around Kylo’s neck. Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop the wet noises their lips make. 

What. The. Fuck. 

She only starts paying attention again when Poe’s chair scrapes against the floor and he rises to his feet. He kisses Rey on the cheek without a word. Rey nearly jumps out of her skin. Poe doesn’t seem to notice though and walks out of the kitchen after Finn. 

And now she’s alone with Kylo. 

“Coffee?” he asks like it’s fucking normal. 

They make eye contact. She can feel her lip twitching, begging to turn into a snarl. 

“Are you kidding me?” God, she’s shrill. 

“No, I wouldn’t joke about coffee,” he says. 

“Shut up, dickhead, you know what I mean.” 

“Excuse me! You better watch how you speak to me in my own home,” he says, squaring his shoulders. 

For a moment Rey’s stomach rolls with fear. What if this poor guy isn’t Kylo, or is some strange version of him in this world? Poe, Rose, and even Finn have been different versions of themselves. There’s no reason there couldn’t be another version of Kylo, too. But then again, this is Kylo. He loves fucking with her. 

“Yeah, that’s not going to work. I know you’re screwing with me,” Rey says. 

“Screwing with - what’s gotten into you, Rey? What am I even screwing with you about?” He actually looks a little offended. 

“You, putting me here, making me the other woman. Kissing Finn right in front of me.” 

He narrows his eyes, slinking towards her. “Other woman? Are you sleeping with my husband!” He looms over her, nostrils flaring. 

Rey swallows, fighting back the doubt that’s creeping through her lungs like an early morning fog. “You made me!” she says. 

“What? How? Why? What would even possess you to think that?” 

“Is this revenge?” she asks. She has to keep on this thread, despite the fact that she’s less sure of her assessment with every word. 

“What the hell are you talking about? Revenge for what?” 

“When I kissed you?” 

“When? I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.” 

“Last time. The last universe. I kissed you and you refused to sleep with me.” 

“Are you on drugs?” 

“Wait. Why wouldn’t you have sex with me? You said you couldn’t, but also that you wouldn’t if you could? But you’re  _ married _ to Finn now? Why’s he better than me?” 

Kylo shuts his eyes and licks his lips, drawing in a deep breath. He looks like he’s about to lose it. 

And then he cracks a smile. 

“You jealous?” Mischief twinkles in his eyes. 

“You motherfucker!” Rey shouts, slapping his arm. Of course, it does nothing. “You almost made me believe that!” 

Kylo chuckles. “Yes, that was the idea.” 

Rey rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Asshole.” 

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says, turning and pouring himself another cup of coffee. 

“What question?” 

“Are you jealous that Finn’s the one I’m married to and not you?” 

Rey nearly chokes on her own spit. “No! Absolutely not!” 

Kylo hums, eyeing her up and down. “Then why does it matter why I didn’t sleep with you?” 

“Because!” Rey hugs herself tighter. “You’re supposed to be The Devil, king of sin and hedonism, temptation incarnate. And I was throwing myself at you! You should’ve been all over me but you weren’t. So why’d you - wait. Are you gay? Is that what this is?” 

Kylo snorts and rolls his eyes. “Wow. Rude.” He takes a long drink of his coffee, staring at her the whole time. There’s no menace or irritation in his eyes. It’s hard to decipher what exactly he’s trying to convey, though. 

“I’m not gay,” he says, finally. 

“But you’re with Finn.” 

“Very astute.” 

Rey makes an ugly, disgusted noise. “So what then? Are you bi or are you fucking with me, again?” 

“Neither. Autochorissexual.” 

“I’m sorry, what now?” Rey doesn’t mean to be rude, but this is Kylo and he goes from being genuine to being a dick in a snap. 

“It’s a kind of asexuality. I’m not attracted to men. Or women. Or anyone. Ever. But I like sex. I like thinking about sex more, but having it is fine, too.” He shrugs, arms and ankles crossed. 

“Oh.  _ Oh _ . I - I uh.” 

“If you’re about to say  _ oh, I didn’t know _ or  _ I’m so sorry _ , don’t bother.” 

“But I -” 

Kylo raises both eyebrows. “I think we’ve established that if I really wanted to, I could easily overpower you. Which is why I wouldn’t have sex with you, by the way. I don’t have sex with anyone I make deals with.” 

“Oh,” Rey says. The air has completely gone out of her sails now. “That’s - that’s almost respectable of you.” 

“Yes, well, I’m already going to fuck you over seven times. An eighth seems gratuitous.” 

Rey groans and rolls her eyes. “Do you always have to ruin the moment?” 

Kylo shrugs then pushes off the counter and walks towards her. She stays firm, expecting him to be irritating again. Instead, he walks past her, towards the batwing doors.

“Oh, by the way,” he calls over his shoulder, “you’re the maid around here. And you’re married to Poe. Just so you don’t slap him when he tries to kiss you.” 

“Thanks a lot, dickbag,” Rey growls. 

Through the rest of the afternoon, Rey tries to prepare herself for what’s coming. It is, somehow, worse than she was expecting. She doesn’t have anything she has to clean today, thank goodness, but the chore list is extensive. Nothing she can say to herself makes seeing Finn and Kylo kiss okay. And she definitely wasn’t expecting to see Finn sitting in Kylo’s lap after dinner. It makes her sick with anger and she just can’t look. 

They live on a ranch, apparently. There are horses, which is apparently what Poe’s in charge of, and there’s an orchard that’s not quite big enough to get turned around in. Rey and Poe live in the farm hand’s quarters, which… well, it could be worse. It’s practically a studio apartment, though there is a bit more room than that. But, other than the bathroom, there are no walls separating anything. There’s a wood stove in the corner, on the other side of the double bed. Well, at least she won’t freeze to death. 

It’s after nine when Rey and Poe get to their little - well, Rey isn’t going to call it a home but it’s where her bed is. Poe starts yawning as soon as dinner finishes and now he looks like he’s about to fall asleep where he stands. That shouldn’t make Rey as happy as it does, but she suspects being married to him is going to be the hardest part of all this. It’s not that she doesn’t like Poe, he’s been nothing but nice to her in her reality, it’s just that she doesn’t really know him and she’d rather not face the expectations of married life with a man she barely knows.

She averts her eyes as Poe changes clothes, pretending the rifle through the cabinets for something. 

“Are you coming to bed?” Poe asks around a yawn. 

“Um, no,” Rey says. “I want a cup of tea first. But you can… get comfortable.” 

Poe nods and yawns. He crawls into bed  _ on the right side  _ and snuggles down into the bed. Rey does make herself a cup of tea but just so she has something to do while Poe falls asleep. She has no intention of getting into bed. At least not yet. 

Poe starts snoring before Rey finishes her drink. She gets up as quietly as she can and leaves, disappearing into the dark night. She’s lucky the moon is full because there are no lights anywhere out here. It’s just her and the moon and the stars. Hopefully, the night will remain clear and she can find her way back after she’s done exploring. 

Her living space isn’t too far from the stables, which Rey is definitely going to visit in the daylight. There’s also what looks like a river flowing down the hill the house and stables sit on. The water flows like black ink on glass in the moonlight. The night itself is calm and the air smells sweeter somehow. It’s nice to be away from the cites, away from the strange smells and noises and lights. It’s beautiful out here, and Rey thinks maybe this one isn’t so bad. 

Aside from the fact that she’s an adulterer. 

And of course, she’s reminded of that fact while she’s wandering around the farmhouse. At first, it’s just loud, undefinable noise. Then it’s voices. The volume is concerning enough and she gets closer, just in case there’s something going on. 

Something’s going on alright. Moaning. And she means to walk past. She really does. But apparently, either Finn or Kylo is an exhibitionist. The curtains are thrown back and the windows are open when Rey walks right past some very enthusiastic sex. 

Or, she means to walk past. She really, really does. But the bedroom is lit with soft candlelight and the way it makes the sweat glisten on their skin draws her eye. So she gets an eyeful of Finn, face pressed into the mattress, his fingers wrapped around the bedsheets, ass in the air while Kylo - 

Her face burns and her heart beats so fast it would put a hummingbird to shame. She runs back to her quarters, hoping that the quicker she gets away from the house the quicker she’ll forget Finn’s throaty moans and the way Kylo bites his lip. 

She doesn’t, of course. 

* * *

 

“Morning, voyeur,” is the first thing Kylo says to Rey the next morning. 

She’d slept in, mostly by accident, so she missed Poe getting up. He’s still outside, doing whatever it is you’re supposed to do to horses, and Finn’s in town for rabbit traps. So Rey is alone with Kylo. Again. 

“I’m not a voyeur.” 

“Everyone’s a voyeur, at least a little,” he says. 

“I didn’t intentionally watch,” Rey says. “And I walked away after the shock wore off.” 

“Shock. Sure.” 

“I don’t have to put up with this from you,” Rey grumbles, taking one of the leftover strips of bacon off the table and stuffing it in her mouth. 

“Oh, but if you didn’t have me to use as a verbal punching bag what would you do with your day?” 

“I’d make better progress with Finn, that’s for sure.” She takes one of the cold pieces of toast and crunches it. Dry crumbs fall down her shirt front. 

Kylo hums, drumming his fingers on the kitchen table. “What exactly are you hoping to get out of Finn, anyway?” 

“What kind of stupid question is that?” Rey says with her mouth full. She pulls the cabinets open until she finds the glasses and to pour herself some lukewarm orange juice. “I’ve told you every wish: I want to be with him.” 

“Yes, but what are you wanting out of him? What makes Finn so wonderful that he’s worth your soul?” 

Rey swallows hard. She’d forgotten about that part, as strange as it seems. This is her fourth wish. If she doesn’t get her shit together soon… 

“He’s the greatest man I know. He’s sweet and considerate and funny. And he helped build schools in Cambodia when he was in college.” 

“Are you describing the love of your life or are you auditioning him for Miss America?” 

Rey groans. “Just because he’s got good qualities -” 

Kylo waves her off. “Everyone does. What’s one thing that pisses you off about him? 

Does Finn do anything that pisses her off? She can’t really say he’s perfect because that would be a lie, but he’s never really made her that mad. She bites her lip, worrying it between her teeth as she thinks. 

“He treats me like a friend and not like a potential girlfriend,” she says. 

“Something less egocentric? Does he pop his gum? Does he talk through movies? Is he a shitty tipper? A snorer?” 

“I - I guess I don’t know.” 

“He’s a liar, you know,” Kylo says, rising to his feet. 

“He’s not!” 

“He is. Habitually. When he panics, he lies. When he’s scared, he lies. And honestly, he’s terrible at it.” 

“That’s - it’s not the same thing as being a liar. It’s not like he does it to get what he wants.” 

“He lies. A lot. He’s a liar.” 

Rey scowls at him, setting her hands on her hips. “Why do you care?” 

“I don’t. Not really. But if you didn’t know Finn’s biggest flaw and you can’t name a single thing he does that makes you mad how do you know he’s worth your soul?” 

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare say he wasn’t worth it. He’s the man of my dreams.” 

He leans in, getting right in her face so that she can see every dark speckle on his face. “Then maybe it’s time to wake up,” he snaps like a territorial dog. Rey’s not sure how to react, or what she did to piss him off, but he’s out of the room before she can say or do anything. 

She nearly marches after him to give him another piece of her mind, but after a few deep breaths she realizes it’s not worth it. Not when he can snark back at her and dig up more of her insecurities. Instead, she stomps to the storage closet and gathers cleaning supplies to take her anger out on the baseboards. 

* * *

 

“I’ve been thinking about chickens,” Finn says. They’re walking through the orchard again. Finn’s inspecting the trees and the fruit that hangs from their limbs. Rey pretends to know what he’s looking for. 

“Why chickens?” she asks. 

“Might be a good way to earn a little more. At least until we can start studding Atlas.” 

“Where would you put them?” 

“Not sure yet. We could throw something together. We have the land.” 

Rey looks out over the grounds. They certainly do. The thing they don’t seem to have enough of is money, and that’s been made clear to Rey these past few days. Finn and Poe both talk about the apple harvest, whether or not they should put more into raw produce or cider, and what’s more important to get for the ranch. She doesn’t really have all the facts, nor does she want them, but she can still piece it together. Bad weather means bad harvests and just one is enough to kill any reserves they may or may not have had. 

Finn comes up behind Rey while she’s distracted, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her behind one of the trees. 

“What are you doing?” Rey squawks. 

Finn’s laugh is like honey and the kisses he leaves on her neck are just as sweet. “They’re not around, don’t worry.” 

Torn between leaning into it and pulling away, Rey freezes, her hands clasped over his. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she says. 

Finn stops, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Don’t do this right now. Please?” He nuzzles her ear as he speaks. It tickles, and she shudders. 

Here she has Finn, loving and affectionate while they’re both completely sober. But she can’t have him. She shouldn’t have him. But god, does she want him. 

“How did we get here?” she asks, mostly to herself. 

Finn runs his hands up and down her sides, pulling her closer to him. “It’ll be okay, one of these days. When we have the money, I promise, we’ll leave. We’ll go someplace warmer.” 

Rey throws her head back, staring up at the soft clouds and the sun-lightened leaves above her. “Do you love him?” she asks. It shouldn’t bother her. Whatever is between Finn and Kylo, it’s not real. It only exists to irritate her. She doesn’t actually have anything to be jealous about. Because she is jealous, though she’s not going to admit that to anyone. But, she’s jealous of Kylo. Not Finn. She knows what it feels like to be held by both of them. She knows what sounds they make when they lose their breath from a kiss. She loves Finn. She wants him. Everything that happened with Kylo was chemical, driven by manufactured need and not actual desire. There’s nothing she would want from him, other than for him to do his damn job and give her what she wishes for. Which is Finn. 

“It’s complicated,” Finn says. “Do we have to talk about this right now?” His hands drift down to squeeze her hips. 

Yes, actually, they do. Normally, Rey would be hesitant to push, but she has to know what logic made cheating on their husbands acceptable. 

“Yes, Finn,” she says, pulling his hands off her. She turns to face him. “If you love him why are we together.” 

Finn’s shoulders sag as he rubs the back of his neck. “I - he’s been in my life for a long time. When we left our hometown he was the only thing I had. He’s still the only thing I have from home. It’s - he’s familiar.” 

“So you don’t love him,” she says. 

“Why are you still with Poe, then?” Finn asks, throwing up his hands. 

“Don’t turn this around on me!” 

“No, Rey. You keep asking me when we’re going to leave when we’re going to get together for real. But you haven’t even attempted to leave Poe. You want me to leave Kylo so badly but what? Are you just going to keep stringing Poe along until one night you just vanish?” 

“That’s rich. You’re still having sex with your husband. Talk about stringing someone along.” 

“What am I supposed to do, Rey? If I leave now I’ll have nothing. I’ve never been on my own. If you want this to change so badly why don’t you do more? Why don’t you save some money? Buy the train tickets?” 

Rey huffs, biting her lip. She can’t look at him right now and instead focuses on a sparrow hopping in the shade of a nearby tree. He makes a decent point. If they’re actually planning on running away together, she could do as much as he can. But the whole situation is madness. How long has this been going on? How long have they been making plans to leave? How long are they going to keep doing this? 

In the distance, between the rows of trees, Poe’s rugged figure saunters closer. The rope at his belt and the wide-brimmed hat he wears makes him look every bit like the cowboys Rey’s used to seeing on ranches. If he looked like that when they met she could definitely see being interested. He smiles at her and she smiles back. But of course, it falls off her lips when she catches Finn hang his head out of the corner of her eye. 

She’s half prepared for the quick kiss he gives her. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he says, taking her hand in his. He smells like sweat and hay. He looks over her shoulder, informing Finn that Kylo’s looking for him. Finn feigns causal well enough, but he looks behind him as he leaves, making sure to catch Rey’s eye. Disappointment sinks in the lines of his face.

Poe kisses her cheek, then her jaw, then her neck. She shivers despite herself. 

Poe is a gentleman. He gives affection easily and often, especially when Rey’s not prepared for it. He pinches her ass when she walks past him, kisses her hands when they part, rocks her in his arms spontaneously. It’s romantic and sweet and if Rey were attracted to him, it would be lovely. But she can’t be intimate with him. She’s in love with Finn. 

“How’s my gorgeous lady?” Poe asks, rubbing circles on her knuckles. 

“I’m good,” she says, her voice a touch too high. “How’s my… dashing cowboy?” God, that’s lame. 

“Dashing cowboy, eh?” He waggles his eyebrows. 

“Well, the hat and the -” Rey waves her free hand in front of her. 

Poe pulls her close, kissing her again. His lips are soft and practiced and Rey doesn’t pull away. At least, not until his tongue parts her lips and his hand drifts down, cupping her ass to pull her against him. She leaves a hand on his chest. Hopefully, that will help sate him. 

“Not out here,” she says. 

Poe frowns, sliding a hand up over the small of her back. “Are you okay?” 

Rey chooses to focus on her hand on his sternum. “Yes, I’m fine.” 

“No,” Poe says, tipping her chin up. She gulps. She’s really not too keen on looking him in the eye while she lies. “Something’s up. You love fooling around out here. You love fooling around in general. But we haven’t had sex in a week.” 

Damn. Alternate Rey really gets around, doesn’t she? Lucky. 

“Did I do something?” Poe asks. 

“No! No, that’s not it,” she says. 

“Then what?” 

“I -” fuck. What’s a good excuse? “I just haven’t been feeling well.” 

“All week?” 

“Yeah. Nothing serious, just stomach troubles,” she says, hoping that’s good enough. She’s been having a lot of tea at night so maybe he’ll believe it. 

His eyes search her face, then skim down to where his thumb rests above her hip. “Why didn’t you say something?” He looks her in the eye when he asks. 

Rey shrugs. “It just wasn't something I wanted to worry you with.” 

Poe’s brow wrinkles as he considers her. He’s not buying it. Great. 

“You’ll tell me if it gets worse?” he asks. 

“Of course,” she says. 

Poe pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and rocking her lightly. “I love you,” he says. 

Rey hums into his chest. 

* * *

 

The nights are nice, at least. Three days have passed since her fight with Finn. She still hasn’t had sex with Poe and she doesn’t plan on it any time soon. She hasn’t had sex with Fin either, despite the heavy petting in the stables the night before. He wanted to. She wanted to. But the thought of it twists her stomach and makes her want to throw up. In fact, she did, later that night, because she could still feel Finn’s lips on her breasts when Poe kissed her lips. The guilt and anxiety had gotten to her. Poe, bless him, was concerned, and rubbed her back while she hunched over the toilet and spilled her guts. 

It would be so much easier if Poe weren’t nice. 

It would be a lot easier if she wasn’t in control, too. If it was just insane biology driving her need, if she was under some kind of spell, if Finn was just as opposed - but this time it’s all her. She lets Finn put his arms around her. She’s the one who slides her hands under his clothes. They both know exactly what they’re doing. 

God, she’s an awful person. 

She’s sitting on the back porch of the farmhouse, knees tucked to her chest and eyes on the stars. It’s a clear night. The only light for miles is the waning moon and the kitchen light at her back. Somewhere, crickets sing and cicadas buzz. For a moment, it doesn’t feel so bad to be here. 

The screen door creaks behind her, but Rey doesn’t bother to look at who it is. She’s not sure she wants to see whoever it is, anyway. Still, it’s probably rude to completely ignore his presence. 

“You can’t see the stars in the city,” she says. “Not like this. Out here they’re beautiful.” 

A lighter clicks. Rey turns to find Kylo leaning over the railing, blowing cigarette smoke. “You’re welcome,” he says. 

“You’re we- what?” 

“You’re welcome,” he says again. 

“Welcome for what?” 

Kylo tips his head towards the sky. 

Rey snorts. “Oh, so you’re taking credit for the stars now, are you?” 

“Why not? I made them.” 

“I thought God created the universe,” she says, just on this side of petulant. 

“That’s backward. The universe created God.” 

“That makes no sense.” 

Kylo huffs, disturbing the smoke rings he’d been blowing. “In the beginning,” he starts. Rey rolls her eyes. “In the beginning, there was the All-Mother -” 

“Where’d she come from?” Rey asks. 

Kylo ignores her. “The All-Mother created Life and Death. From Life and Death came Nature and Harmony. From Nature and Harmony, Preternatural and Strife came to be. And from the six principles spring forth all else forever and ever.” He shrugs, turning his body so he’s half facing her. “God, as He’s known now, is Preternatural.” 

“So which are you? Death? Strife?” 

“I was the Light Bearer, “ he says, lifting a hand to the heavens. “A union of God and Nature. Their first and only.” 

“Wait… Mother Nature is your actual mother?” 

Kylo nods. 

Rey lets out a breathy little chuckle. This is absurd. She’s getting a theology lesson from The Devil. She’s sitting on The Devil’s back porch and he’s telling her how the universe was created. Too bad no one will ever believe her. She could start the one true religion. 

“Well, thanks for the stars, I guess,” she says, not knowing what else to say. 

There’s a long near silence, the crickets and cicadas even seeming to wait, before Kylo speaks again.

“They were for you,” he says. The cigarette between his fingers is mostly ash now, his attention on the sky above. 

“You looked up at the blackness of the void and you were terrified. All that empty space, no sun, just nothingness; it’s dreadful to remember, honestly. So I gave you light and you weird little mammals turned them into stories and used them to find your way home.” 

“I thought you hated humans,” Rey says in a soft voice. 

“Oh, I do,” he says, staring up. “I didn’t always. I wasn’t always -” he gestures to himself. 

“What happened?” Rey turns her full attention on him. There’s something different about him, something she can’t quite put her finger on. Maybe it’s the way his shoulders droop or the way he stares off, lost in his own thoughts. Maybe it’s that, in this light, in the calm of the night, he looks less like a cocky jerk and more like a young man. 

“The Serpent. Satan,” he says. “He showed me what the planet would become. What you’d do to my mother’s creation. How you’d kill in my father’s name. No one thought it was a good idea to get rid of you except me. I nearly killed my father. I fell…” he flicks the spent cigarette away and lights a new one. 

“And you overthrew The Devil.” 

Kylo shrugs. “He deserved it,” he says around the filter in his teeth. 

Rey looks back up at the sky, suddenly feeling very small. If what he says is true, then she’s sitting with the man who hung the stars. Stars she never gets to see because the night sky is too polluted with smog and light. A gift taken for granted, like the earth, mankind is killing daily. 

Who would’ve guessed that The Devil might be right? 

“Don’t get contemplative on me now. Go back to yelling, it’s less awkward when you do,” Kylo says. 

Rey clicks her tongue, rising to her feet “Kylo…” She nearly tries to touch him but pulls back. “I -” The words die on her tongue. What exactly is she supposed to say? She can’t make him feel better.

“Have you fucked Poe yet?” he asks. 

It’s like a balloon pop. All quiet sadness dissipates from the night and the atmosphere jerks into a new direction. 

“Kylo.” 

“He’s going to get suspicious. He can be quite jealous.” 

Rey rolls her eyes. “I told him I wasn’t feeling well.” 

“What about Finn? Have you taken a bite out of that yet? Fair warning, it’s definitely a mouthful.” 

Rey sneers in disgust. “That’s exceptionally unattractive.” 

“And you’re exceptionally jealous.” 

She starts to respond but then something strikes her. “Wait a minute. The apples and the temptation and you, being here all of the time - this is the Garden of Eden, isn’t it? You’re being ironic, aren’t you?” 

Kylo’s eyes widen, the asshole facade vanishing once again. “I didn’t even think of that. Shit, that would’ve actually been clever.” 

“You really didn’t think of it?” 

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I just thought farms and adultery were enough to make you hate it. Dammit! Okay, let’s just pretend I did that on purpose.” 

Rey laughs. This night is so ridiculous. “You’re so - “ surprising. And kind of funny. And a little human, whether he likes it or not. “Weird. You’re so fucking weird.” 

* * *

 

It goes like this: Rey and Poe have breakfast with Finn and Kylo every morning. Poe tends to the horses with Finn. Rey cleans the house. God only knows what Kylo does. Lunch is short, then Finn tends to the orchard, sometimes with Poe, sometimes with Kylo, and sometimes with Rey. Rey dodges Poe as best she can until dinner. After that, they go to bed. Rey fakes sick. Poe grumbles under his breath and asks her to see a doctor. They sleep. It repeats the next day. 

It’s tedious, but of the alternate lives she’s lived, so far, this one is the best. 

While she’s been here she’s read more, taught herself to crochet, and learned how to fold fitted sheets. The air is clean, the grounds are beautiful, and she always sleeps through the night. She and Finn are together as much as they can be, and the guilt lessens. She’s grown accustomed to his touch, to his kiss, to the smell of his shampoo. And she loves it. She loves him.  There’s just one pesky problem. 

Rey and Finn have not had sex. They almost did, two nights ago when they were alone with the horses because Poe was laid up after spraining his ankle. Rey wound up in an empty horse stall, Finn’s hand in her panties while she whined and whimpered in his ear. She’d been so close when they heard the stable doors open. They scrambled to look like they’d been doing anything less inappropriate. It’d only been Kylo, who of course knew what was going on, but it still kept Finn from finishing the job anyway. 

And that’s the thing: Kylo knows. He made the whole damn thing possible and hasn’t even hinted to Poe that she’s been having an affair. If it was just Kylo, it might not have been so bad, actually. If everyone knew about it, was it really that big of a deal? But not everyone knows and Poe doesn’t seem like the type to be okay with his wife taking a lover. Especially when he isn’t getting laid. As much as Rey rationalizes her behavior (it’s a different universe, she was an adulterer when she got here, she’d never actually cheat in real life) she knows this is wrong. She could cut it off with Finn, but the whole point is to be with him. She could tell Poe or divorce him, but that would be awkward. Murder briefly crosses her mind because Rey watches too damn many crime dramas, but it’s not on the list. Unless maybe it’s Kylo for putting her through this. She could wish her way out of this, but then she’d only have two to fall back on. Despite the fact that all options suck, she’s got to try to see it through. 

It’s been nearly a month when they sit down to a tense breakfast. 

“Finn,” Poe says suddenly. He hasn’t spoken more than five words since he woke up. “Rey won’t go to the doctor. Would you mind calling her today?” 

“Hey!” Rey grouses. 

“Why? What’s wrong?” Finn looks between Rey and Poe, worry written in the creases around his lips. 

“She’s been sick for three weeks,” Poe says. 

“You don’t look sick,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, well, she’s been throwing up. And exhausted all the time, and has terrible headaches.” He stabs his sausage so hard it clinks against the plate underneath. 

“Have you had a fever? Chills? Anything weird?” Finn asks. 

“No.” Rey does feel like she’s going to be sick again, though. 

“Weird,” Finn mutters. 

“So. Either she’s sick or we need to have a talk.” The look Poe gives her makes her heart sink. He’s very obviously not happy and his eyes possess a sharpness she’s never seen before. He knows. He has to know. 

“Could be pregnant,” Kylo says. 

Suddenly everyone’s eyes are on her. 

“A-am I?” She looks right into Kylo’s eyes. His flat expression tells her nothing. 

“If you’ve been sick a lot. And I’ve heard headaches can be a part of it. In the beginning,” Finn says in a small voice. 

“Oh,” Poe breaths the word. “Oh.” A smile creeps across his face. He ducks his head when he can’t manage to contain it. “It’s certainly possible.” 

Passing out is a strange feeling. It’s like your stomach while you’re on a tilt-a-whirl, only it’s your head and not your stomach. It’s also frighteningly serene. You know you’re falling head first into your scrambled eggs, but you’re not bothered by it. It’s not like you can stop it anyway. 

Waking up is strange, too. One second she’s out, the next she’s back with orange juice in her lap and eggs in her hair and everyone touching her and jerking her face around. Poe and Finn both have a mild meltdown while Kylo hands her a glass of water. 

Well, that’s one way to get out of shit. No wonder Victorian ladies did it all the time. 

She spends the rest of the day in the living room on the couch because potentially pregnant people should rest and the house has air conditioning. Fine by her. If she has to stew in her own thoughts all day, she might as well do it at a decent temperature. 

She’s pretty sure she’s not pregnant. Aside from her tryst in freaky wolf sex land, she hasn’t had sex in years. Unless she got pregnant during that whole heat nonsense. She hasn’t had her period yet. But… she also hasn’t had her period in months. Not since she made her first wish. Though, if that’s a side effect of whatever magic Kylo does she’s not complaining. 

But she’s not pregnant. She’s been faking sick and the only times she’s thrown up are when she feels guilty.  It was a farce. Unless the Rey here was already pregnant. 

“Kylo,” she whispers as he walks past. “Am I?” 

“No,” he whispers back. “But, if you lie you’ll get yourself more time. At least six weeks if you play your cards right.” 

Is - is he giving her a cover? She doesn’t have a chance to ask before he’s gone. 

It starts to rain around noon. It’s a drizzle at first but by dinner it’s a full downpour. Finn watches out the window as the river swells. Poe declares it too risky to walk back to the farmhand’s quarters in the dark, so he settles into the armchair in the living room. Across from him, Rey sleeps on the couch. The first strike of lightning illuminates the house like a floodlight and the thunder wakes Rey from a dead sleep. It’s going to be a long night. 

Rey wakes the second time to Finn shaking her shoulder. 

“What time is it?” she asks. 

“We need to talk,” he says, dropping a pair of rain boots at the foot of the couch. “Meet me in the stables in ten.” 

“Why can’t we just talk here?” she asks. It’s still raining outside, though much gentler than before. 

Finn nods towards Poe. “Ten minutes,” he says. He kisses her forehead before slinking to the back door and slipping into the night.

There’s no clock in the house and she doesn’t have a phone. Rey counts to sixty, then gives up, deciding it’ll be close enough by the time she gets out there. She digs a flashlight out of the utility closet, pulls her boots on, and follows Finn into the storm. 

It was a good thing she had the forethought to grab a light. The moon and stars are gone and the world is left in a stomach tightening darkness. She’s struck by the insane, irrational fear that there’s something behind her, just out of arm’s length, though she knows there’s nothing out here but her and the rain. She risks losing her footing and tumbling into a tree more than she does being attacked. The ground is already very slick, the dying grass providing too little of a barrier against the rain. Her rain boots keep sticking in the mud, and she nearly loses them twice to the hungry earth. 

She does make it to the stables in one piece, if not a lot wetter. 

“Finn?” she whisper-shouts. “Where are you?” 

Finn pokes his head out of one of the stalls. “Rey. I told you to wait.” 

“How am I supposed to know what time it is without a clock?” 

Finn only shakes his head. “What if someone saw you?” 

“The only people around here besides us are asleep.” 

Finn comes out of the stall and laces his fingers behind his head, taking a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry. I’m just stressed out.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Rey. You could be pregnant. It could be mine.” The usual humor is gone from his face, a serious weight taking its place. 

"I'm not."

“You know for sure? You’re on your… you know?” 

“You can say period, Finn. If you can put your dick in my vagina you should be able to talk about  its basic functions.” 

“Fine,” Finn flushes just a little. “Are you on your period?” 

“No. But I know I’m not pregnant.” 

“Then you can’t be sure,” Finn says. 

Something, probably the wind, makes one of the panels near the roof clatter, causing the horses to stir. They’re not panicking, but the huff and shake their heads like the uptight animals they are. 

“I know, okay. I’ve been faking sick so I didn’t have to sleep with Poe. We have nothing to worry about,” she says.  

Finn gulps. “You’re certain?” 

“Yeah. I am.” 

Thunder claps and this time the horses to panic, whining and banging against the stall doors. Lightning rips through the sky, racing through the now open stable door. One long shadow in the otherwise white light stretches across the ground. 

Rey gasps, stumbling away from Finn as she meets its source. “Poe!” 

Finn spins around, putting himself between Rey and Poe. 

“You motherfucker!” Poe shouts. He charges Finn, and Rey struggles to get between them before Poe can get his hands on Finn.

“You fucking dick! With my wife? After everything I’ve done for you?” 

Rey manages to squeeze in enough to grab one of Poe’s arms before he can land a punch on Finn’s jaw. 

“Poe! Please, I can explain,” Finn says. “It wasn’t like that. It was just one time. Just a moment of weakness. I swear! It was nothing. It was a mistake!” 

“You’re goddamn right it was!” 

“Poe, stop!” Rey pleads. 

He glares down at her. “Don’t you fucking talk to me.” 

Poe jerks his arm back and Rey tumbles to the ground. It gives Finn just enough space to step out of Poe’s reach and bolt for the door. 

“Get back here!” Poe races after him at a stumbling run. 

“Finn!” Rey shrieks. She follows both of them out the door, into the vast darkness. 

“You’re gonna die!” she hears Poe shout. She cannot see him, or Finn, or anything else. 

“Poe!” she calls out. The rumbling rain is all that answers. She takes off in the direction of the voices, hoping one of them says something else. She’s not going to let this happen. She can’t. She won’t. 

“Please come back!” 

The rain drenches her hair and flows into her eyes, making what little sense she has of the vague shapes of the land impossible to decipher. She prays she’s going in the right direction. 

“Finn?” 

The next step she takes is into a rabbit hole. It eats her boot and she tumbles, backward into the mud. The next step is on unsteady ground. She slips. She falls. 

Rey does not stop falling ass over tea kettle until she crashes, face first, into icy water. She’s already dizzy and turned around, her head spinning and body aching. The one small breath she has in her lungs is already burning to get out. She scrambles, clawing the water to meet the surface. 

The river, it seems, is deeper than it looked, the current stronger than she expected. And sadly, Rey can’t swim. As a child of the desert there was no need to learn. She’d never been in water above her head. 

_ Please, please don’t let me drown _ , she begs.  _ I don’t want to die _ . 

The scant air in her lungs wins its way out and she gasps, desperate for breath. She cannot stop the water that rushes in, and she can’t just swallow it either. Her mouth stays open in a silent scream as she fails to choke the water back out. Her body needs air, desperately, but it can’t do anything but beg for what it will never have. 

The world is already dark, but the new darkness advances on her quickly, her eyes no longer seeing the water. They no longer see anything at all. 

_ So, this is death then _ , is her last conscious thought. 

Distantly, there is a pull against her neck, like a sweater that’s too tight. Water flowing over her numb skin. A loud, forceful splash. A spray of water. Violent gust of wind. A snap of air. Thunder. Feathers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is one of my personal favorites. I've been wanting to write it since I started this fic and it turned out better than I expected, somehow.


	6. I Write Sins and Tragic Lovesick Fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey wakes up in an unfamiliar place. Kylo has some feelings.   
> OR   
> Regards to Milton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be advised that there's some vulgarity, slut-shaming language, and some non-consensual touching.

It’s fucking freezing. 

It’s the kind of angry, sharp cold that  _ burns _ ; the kind that seeps in through your clothes and blankets and turns your lips blue. Rey more spasms than shivers, her limbs almost useless. She burrows deeper into the bed, pulling the thick comforter over her head. It doesn’t help. Not really. The heating must’ve gone out again. Or maybe it just wasn’t turned on. It’s August. It shouldn’t be this cold. 

The bed below her dips as a foreign weight settles next to her. Through the blanket, someone skims the length of her body. She leans into the touch, still half asleep and hoping it will warm her. Her bed companion grows bolder, their body moving closer until their weight pulls the blanket tighter and it slips off the top of her head. Two hands flit over her now, slowly traveling around to cup her ass. She swats at them the best she can. No matter who it is, she doesn’t appreciate them going straight for her ass. 

“It’s okay, I’ll help you get warm.” Rey does not recognize that voice. 

She sits up in a flash, fighting to get free of the blanket. There’s a man laying on her bed, propped up on a single elbow,  _ lounging _ like he belongs there. And he’s not wearing a shirt. Or pants. Just a thong and a smirk. 

Rey screams. 

The stranger smiles. “Damn, you’ve got powerful lungs,” he says. 

Rey doesn’t have a chance to scream or yell or say anything else before there’s laughter in the room. She finally starts paying attention to the rest of the room. They’re not alone. Not by a long shot. 

There’s a woman in a pinstripe pantsuit sitting on the high footboard, one Louboutin on the bed while the other dangles free. Another man sits on a desk at the right wall, just visible past the shoulder of the woman. He’s wearing a novelty t-shirt and eating a banana. A woman in a green dress stands next to the fireplace at the wall opposite the bed, her jaw and cat-eye eyeliner sharp enough to cut yourself on. She’s staring at the woman in the blue dress and the pearl earrings who stands by the door. Her elegantly sculpted nails are wrapped around the phone that has her full attention. Another man is sitting on the floor, head tipped back against the wall, his face hidden by shaggy, unkempt hair. He’s in sweatpants and a stained tank top that she can smell from where she’s sitting. Actually, he might be dead. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Rey shrieks. Since when did her bedroom become the It spot to hang out? ….wait, this isn’t her bedroom. “And where the fuck am I?” 

“Reverse those two, and you’ve got your answer,” thong-guy says. 

“You wish, numbnuts,” says the pantsuit. 

“Yeah, Master doesn’t share,” says the man on the desk, spitting pieces of fruit as he does. 

“Least of all with you,” says pearl earrings. She’s still on her phone. 

“You don’t actually know he’s fucking her,” sneers green dress. 

“Are you blind, Envy? Of course, he is! She’s got a fantastic ass,” says thong-guy. 

“Hey! Don’t look at my ass!” Rey snipes. 

Thong-guy pouts, reaching out. “I can’t help but admire such a goddess -” 

Rey slaps his hand. 

“What part of _ don’t touch a single hair on her head or I will toss you into the Styx and let the refuse sate their anger with your flesh for the rest of eternity _ don’t you understand, you dumb slut?” the pantsuit asks. 

“I can’t look, I can’t touch, I can’t do  _ anything _ . Why am I even alive?” whines thong-guy. He flops on his back, starfishing over the bed and nearly kicking Rey in the process. 

“Pathetic, the lot of you. Losing it over a bag of meat. Have some self-respect,” says pearl earrings. 

“Yeah, what makes the flesh bag so special?” Green dress glares at Rey, and if looks could kill she’d be dead before she hit the ground. 

“Excuse me! What the fuck is going on here? Where am I? And who the fuck are you people?” Rey snaps. 

“We’re your babysitters,” says the fruit spitter. He crunches into an apple before pantsuit lady scowls at him and demands he give up the fruit bowl in his lap. He begrudgingly acquiesces. 

“I don’t need babysitters. And I definitely don’t need six of them.” 

“Well, more like five and a half. I wouldn’t trust Sloth to watch a rock,” says fruit-spitter. 

“Sloth, Envy - you’re the Seven Deadly Sins, aren’t you?” Rey asks. 

“See, smart and beautiful,” says thong-guy. No, Lust. He’s got to be Lust. 

“It’s not that hard to figure out,” huffs Envy. 

The woman on her phone must be Pride, which makes the man on the floor Sloth and the one on the desk Gluttony. Rey narrows her eyes at the woman on her bed. “Which one are you?” she asks. 

The woman’s red lips curl into a tight, sinister smile, her dark eyes glisten like oil. “Greed,” she says. Her voice permeates the air like smog and settles over Rey’s senses like a soapy film. 

“Of fucking course,” Lust mutters, slapping the bed. “Do you always have to steal them?” 

“Do you always have to be such a whiny fuckboy?” Greed snarks back. 

“Better a whiny fuckboy than a selfish shrew,” Lust says. 

Their bickering snaps Rey out of the strange stupor she’d fallen under. She takes a moment to gather herself, surveying the room for the first time. The bed she’s on is soft, draped in red silk sheets. The comforter is gunmetal grey, stuffed with something soft and light, lighter than any blanket Rey’s ever held, but it’s keeping her legs toasty warm. Aside from the blanket, the fireplace on the far wall is the only thing providing heat or light. There aren’t any light fixtures on the walls or ceilings, not as far as she can tell. There aren’t any windows, either. 

“I’m in Hell,” she mutters, almost distractedly, staring at the floor below that shines like a black mirror. 

“Well done, Sherlock. Your Pulitzer is in the mail,” Pride says. 

Rey can’t breathe. This.. no, this isn’t supposed to happen. There has to be a mistake. “I’m not supposed to be here. He said if I died before the wishes were over I wouldn’t be here.” 

“Do you really think we waste this kind of finery on the dead?” Greed asks. “You’re not dead. Yet. You’re a guest.” 

Rey’s breath still shakes. She hugs herself tight, maybe a little too tight, and thinks. She woke up in a fancy bed, not a spike pit or whatever they do down here. No one’s come after her. The worst she’s had to put up with is a handsy demon. No, she’s not dead. Even though - 

“I drowned,” Rey says. She swallows hard, remembering her panic as her vision went dark. She strokes her throat, willing the knot there to go away. She remembers, vaguely, the pressure on her neck and the sharp snap, like a bullwhip, in her ears. She strokes the back of her neck. It stings, like a cat scratch. 

“Mazel tov,” says Gluttony. He’s eyeing the bowl of fruit in Greed’s lap, inching closer to the edge of the desk. 

“That doesn’t -” 

“So if he’s not screwing you than what’s the deal. What have you got that Master wants so badly?” Envy asks. 

“My soul,” Rey says. 

“What’s so special about your soul? It’s not like you’re Mother Teresa,” says Envy. “He couldn’t just let you die and moved on to the next idiot?” 

“It’s that bet,” Lust says. “Whatever it’s about He really wants to win.” 

“I hope it’s an expansion,” Greed says. “Living next to Wrath is a nightmare.” 

“You’re no picnic, either,” Gluttony says. 

“So what’d you sell your soul for?” Envy asks, a delighted little twinkle in her eye. 

“Probably something stupid,” says Pride. 

“Money?” Greed asks. “A Fortune 500?” 

“Excess,” Greed says, “to have and do it all, right? A mountain of cocaine and a truck of cheese wiz.” 

“A six-day orgy in Greece with all the men and women you’ve ever wanted?” Lust asks, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“It’s a man,” Envy says. “Someone else’s man, I bet.” 

“He’s not anyone else’s. I’m not a homewrecker.” Well, at least not in this universe. 

“Told you,” says Pride. 

“And you haven’t gotten into his pants yet?” Lust asks. 

“That’s none of your concern.” 

“So you did but it was awful,” says Gluttony. 

“No! It was fine. Good, even.” Not that she really remembers much of it. What she remembers was good. 

“How many more wishes do you have?” Greed asks. She lifts the bowl over her head as Gluttony reaches for it. He overbalances and falls face-first on the floor. The other demons laugh. 

“Three,” Rey says, after doing the math. 

“You should wish to be the only one whose food will ever taste good to him. He has to spend time with you then! And they do say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Gluttony says from the floor. 

“Pretty sure it’s further south,” says Lust. 

“Yeah, his wallet,” says Greed. 

“Wish that he worshiped the ground you walked on. Make him desperate to please you. Desperate men will do anything,” Pride says. 

“Including going batshit crazy and murdering you in your sleep,” Lust says. “Just wish to be irresistible. He literally won’t be able to resist you.” 

“How exactly does that eliminate homicide potential if everyone wants her?” Envy asks. 

Rey rolls her eyes as the demons bicker and throw out more awful suggestions like “wish you were the only two people left on earth” and “wish he was literally addicted to your touch”.  Then it devolves into arguing and trading barbs back and forth. Rey stops listening after Greed calls Gluttony a pointless, derivative waste of malintent and hurls a shoe at him. 

When is Kylo getting back? 

\----

Humans, by and large, will do whatever they want regardless of consequence. They eat and drink and lie and steal and fuck and kill until their needs are met and anything that was destroyed in the process isn’t their problem. Sure, they feel guilt, but knowing guilt doesn’t stop them. Guilt only makes them dig their heels in harder. Guilt makes them blame anyone else. _ I didn’t mean to make you cry, but you’re being too sensitive. I didn’t mean to cheat, but she was beautiful and I was drinking and I’m a man, after all. It was your fault I hit you, you pissed me off. If she was wearing something less provocative, if he wasn’t in the way, if they ever really loved me…  _

_ Marilyn Manson seduced them. _ __   
_ It was the violent video games. _ _   
_ __ He’d been reading those books, you know. 

The Devil made them do it. 

Right. He couldn’t give less of a shit about what they’ve decided is evil this century. Rock music, women in pants, queer erotica - none of it is worth the effort. But they’d rather blame him than deal with the reality that the evil they claim to hate lives and grows in their own hearts. That would require introspection and taking responsibility, after all. 

Consequences, responsibility— they seem to be the only think he thinks about these days, this prison being chief among them. This cold, dark, lonely kingdom full of misery and bile. And he’s the king, trapped in flesh that’s too small, too rigid, and too human. The fire that he is burns too hot, glowing through his skin and bleeding out his eyes. His talons are no longer distinct, elegant limbs, but awful claws. His wings are too big for this form, and his primaries drag the ground if he doesn’t hold them semi-spread at all times. Even the face that stares back at him in mirrors and calm water is a shadow of what he used to be, the light once present in his dark eyes snuffed out. It’s grotesque. 

He can move freely through the realms, his and the humans’, even Heaven if he’s feeling particularly suicidal. No one else gets the privilege. Even his best demons have to limit their time between realms. He is the envy and terror of every backstabbing demon, every yowling beast, every desperate human begging for mercy long after they deserve to get it. All because he isn’t bound by the black caverns of this pit. If they only knew. His prison isn’t even this human-sized box. He’s sure he could find another equally inadequate form with the right magic. No, his punishment is that he must live with himself forever. 

The Devil makes his rounds, pacing the wide stone paths that separate the Malebolge from the rest of the pit. They’ve diversified their tactics over the last few centuries. Reorganized, too. The Sins still stick together in concentric circles, mostly because it annoys them, but the same old punishments just haven’t been cutting it. Rivers of boiling blood are fine and all, but if that’s all there is it gets boring for everyone. The good thing about humans is that they aren’t just physical beings; they’re mental, social, and sensual creatures, too. Cut a man off from his senses and watch how fast he goes insane. Keep them in a cold dark room and in a few weeks, they’ll cherish whatever you inflict on them. Subject them to an eternity of monotony and they’ll beg to die, forgetting that they can’t anymore. Snakes and dismemberment are fine for those who’ve been here for a while, but times change. Hell changes, too. Contrapasso can be psychological torture via a ten-month loop of The Red Hot Chili Peppers just as easily as it can be pushing boulders. 

Also, it means he could move the more irritating torture spots out of his living space and get some fucking peace. 

He’s made a decent appearance for the day, at least enough to keep the masses aware of his presence. The Devil spreads his tawny wings, flaps once, and splits Hell’s silence with a thunderous crack. He dives through one of the valleys and down the twisting caverns that lead even deeper and into Dis, the place he begrudgingly calls home. He nearly rams into several demons on the way down, intentionally, of course. It scares the shit out of them, but it also reminds them who’s in charge. 

He touches down outside his office but he hesitates for a moment. This area of Hell is decidedly more corporate looking than the rest. It’s a grim hallway lined with plain doors. This is where the real business, the logistics, that is, is. It’s also where his more personal ventures take place. There is a bedroom, though it doesn’t see much use these days. It’s certainly not seen what it’s currently holding before. Down the hall, probably sleeping in the bed, is Rey Johnson, the only living human to ever set foot in Hell. (That Dante is a lying bastard.) 

He should check on her. 

Except he shouldn’t. She’s with the Sins, she’ll be fine. Unless Lust gets handsy. Maybe he should’ve made both Wrath and Lust sit this one out. Then again, Rey will probably give him a black eye if he tries anything, so it’s probably fine. She’s fine. 

But maybe he should still check? 

No! No, he’s not going to do that. He’s got actual work to do. Work that doesn’t involve following some human around like a pet. 

“This is madness,” he tells himself, looking down the hallway. It takes effort, but he forces himself through the office door. 

He’s spent more time in this room than anyone ought to. He’s spent entire decades in here, always up to his ears in paperwork. Well, it used to be paperwork. Now it’s all emails and instant messages and digital forms. Hell might not have heating or lighting, but it’s got great wi-fi. 

He rests against the door for a moment, shutting his eyes. He can still see her, so small and helpless in his arms. She was soaked to the bone and her lips were blue, but she was still alive, able to breathe when she choked the water back out of her lungs. He’s not sure how he knew what was happening or where she was, but he did. He’s not actually omniscient, - obviously, or that heat debacle wouldn’t’ve happened - and he shouldn’t’ve known. But he knew Rey was dying. And he couldn’t let that happen because - 

Well. If anyone asks, it’s because her premature death would nullify the contract and he’d have to start all over with someone else. 

That’s what he’ll tell anyone if they ask. It’s technically true. 

But if he’s truly honest it’s because she makes him feel… different. She’s the first person to tell him to go fuck himself in a century or two. She’s not afraid of him. Not once she realized who he actually was, which is the opposite of what usually happens. She pulls things out of him that he didn’t think he still had in him, like empathy… like desire for something other than sex and nicotine. She makes him jealous. 

Two hundred thousand years of dealing with humans and now he’s going soft and thinking about women. No, not women. One woman. One woman who doesn’t want him anyway. She’s made that exceptionally clear. 

“Get ahold of yourself, Ren.” The words spill out faster than he can think about them and he’s immediately kicking himself. No, he can’t start referring to himself by the name she gave him. Even if it is nice to have a name again. Nice, and familiar. Unfairly so. 

“Stop it,” he hisses, smacking his head against the door. 

He pushes off the door and plops into his chair. He can’t stop thinking about this  _ problem _ , however. That’s all his feelings for Rey are. He still needs two souls to win the bet. If he gets them and one of them is Rey, he’ll have no control over what happens to her. Anything could happen. Everything could happen. She doesn’t deserve that. She’s not bad enough to be stuck down here. 

This is why you don’t fraternize with them: you start worrying about their souls. 

Maybe this is why God stays in Heaven. 

Fuck, what is he going to do? 

Work. That’s what he’s going to do. He digs the tablet out of his desk, scrolling through files that needs his attention. Polio might be making a comeback, which is exciting. The campaign to split the American Democratic Party seems to be moving along swimmingly. There are a few emails from demons on the surface, mostly checking in. Also, an email from “Amazon” about “a free credit to his account”. He deletes that one. You’d think the guy who invented phishing schemes wouldn’t have to put up with them but apparently, that’s too much to ask for. 

He blazes past Rey’s file. That’s a road to nowhere good. 

But then, he stops. Right after Rey is the other file. The other desperate loser hoping to sell their soul. A horribly lovesick fool ready to do anything for a chance at happiness. Oh, yes, this is just what he needs. 

It’s time to give Mr. Finn Abrams a visit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the length, but there isn't a whole lot going on transitionally right now. Also, prepare for some Finn (finally)! I'm really excited about Finn, guys.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this fic please let me know via comments and kudos. I love hearing what you think. I'm on [dreamwidth](https://rosemoonweaver.dreamwidth.org) and [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/rosemoonweaver) if you're interested in chatting. 
> 
> Also, fun fact time!  
> When I was a child, I had a baby doll named Phylo Clem. Why I picked that name I have no idea, but I guess I was just an odd child. It's kind of a flimsy excuse to get Rey to call The Devil Kylo, but I really didn't want to keep writing "The Devil" over and over when you all know it's supposed to be Kylo Ren.  
> In the '67 version of Bedazzled the "magic words" the devil uses are Barbara Streisand. I figured Carrie Fisher was a fitting substitute, given the material.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Sympathy for the Devil](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18002423) by [outoftheashes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outoftheashes/pseuds/outoftheashes)




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